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“ POINT, ROY 


POINT ! ” 


CALLED SAGE, SOFTLY. 

— Page II, 



THE GREAT 
OAKDALE MYSTERY 


BY 


MORGAN SCOTT 

ti 


AUTHOR OF “ben STONE AT OAKDALE,” “ BOYS OF OAKDALE 
ACADEMY,” “rival PITCHERS OF OAKDALE,” 
“OAKDALE BOYS IN CAMP,” ETC. 


f 



NEW YORK 

HURST & COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS 


HURST & COMPANY 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

1 . The Hunters 5 

11 . The Mysterious Stranger . . 17 

III. The Home of the Sages ... 28 

IV. A Man “Wanted^^ 40 


V. By the Light from the Window 54 


VI. Captain Quinn's Monkey ... 68 

VII. Annoying Attentions ... 79 

VIII. Hooker has a Plan .... 89 

IX. The Camp in the Woods ... 99 

X. A Perplexing Question . . .109 

XL The Hidden Sportsmen . . .118 

XII. Disappointed Duck Hunters . 132 

XIII. The Tardy Quarterback . . .141 

XIV. The First Quarter . . . .151 

XV. The Player Who Blundered . 159 


XVI. Remarkable Behavior of Sage . 169 

XVII. Work of the Young Detective . 176 
XVIIL Sleuth's Astonishing Theory . 187 


XIX. The Night Alarm 197 

XX. In the Bank 204 

3 


4 

CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 


page 

XXL 

What Sleuth Learned 

. 213 

XXIL 

Following the Trail . 

. 222 

XXIII. 

The Capture 

• 235 

XXIV. 

Suspicion 

• 245 

XXV. 

The Boy Who Acted Guilty . 

• 255 

XXVI. 

Another Capture .... 

. 265 

XXVII. 

The Two Prisoners 

. 271 

XXVIII. 

The Shreds of Hope . 

. 279 

XXIX. 

A Concession from Sleuth . 

. 291 

XXX. 

The Truth at Last 

. 301 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


‘Toint, Roy — point called Sage softly. - Frontispiece ^ 

PAGE 

Aaron Quinn hobbled back toward the hut, 
carrying the monkey. ----- 74 ^ 

The fullback came charging across, forcing 
Rodney toward the side line. - - - 156 ^ 

“Here he is I Come on ; weVe got him - 24S 




The Great Oakdale Mystery, 

CHAPTER 1. 

THE HUNTERS. 

Two boys, each carrying a gun, came out of 
a strip of woods and paused. They were fol- 
lowed by a short-haired pointer dog. One of 
the boys, whose gun was a single-barreled re- 
peater, bore a game-bag suspended from his 
shoulder by a strap, and he spoke to the dog 
with an air of authority that proclaimed him the 
animars master. He was a pleasant-faced, blue- 
eyed chap, and his name was Fred Sage. 

The gun of the other boy was a double-bar- 
reled hammerless. The boy had a slightly un- 
dershot jaw, and his eyes were a trifle too small. 
This was Roy Hooker. During the months of 
the past summer these two fellows had become 
exceedingly friendly. 


5 


6 THE GKEAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

''There are the Hopkins woodcock covers 
down yonder, Fred,'’ said Roy, pointing across 
the open strip of pasture land. "Old Hopkins 
doesn't like to have anyone gun there, but I'm 
for giving those covers a try, as long as he will 
probably never know it." 

"Has he posted 'No Trespass’ signs?” asked 
Sage. 

"Guess not; I haven't seen any. He doesn't 
do any shooting himself, but being a cranky old 
bear, he doesn't like to have anyone else gun on 
his property." 

"Well, as long as there are no warnings posted 
and he hasn't personally notified us to keep off, 
we'll see if we can find any birds there. The 
covers look attractive to me. Here, Spot; heel, 
sir." 

With the first indication that the boys intended 
to proceed, the eager dog had started forward, 
but he turned at the command of his master and 
once more fell in behind. 

The forenoon of this clear, sunny autumn day 
was not far advanced, the young hunters having 


THE HUNTEKS 


7 


set forth shortly after breakfast. Although the 
air was clear and almost warm, there was a cer- 
tain suggestion of crispness in it, which, together 
with the flaming leaves of the deciduous trees, 
plainly betokened that the early autumn frosts 
had been at work. The stubble of the open pas- 
ture land was brown and dry. Behind the boys, 
in the woods they had just left, squirrels were 
chattering and bluejays screaming, but Fred and 
Roy were after bigger and more legitimate game. 
Thus far their hunt had proved disappointing. 

‘If we don't find anything down yonder," said 
Hooker, “Fll get mad and shoot the next squirrel 
that barks at me. I was tempted to pop over one 
big gray fellow that leered at me from a limb." 

“You don't eat squirrels, do you?" 

“Oh, no." 

“What would you do with them if you should 
shoot 'em?" 

“Nothing; just throw them away." 

“Then don't shoot them, Roy. It’s not good 
sport to kill practically harmless creatures simply 


8 THE GKEAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

for the sake of killing something. Fd rather 
never shoot anything at all than do that.’^ 

''Oh, you’re deucedly finicky about some things, 
old fellow. You won’t have many chances to 
gun this fall, for football is going to keep you 
busy. When I proposed it last night I hardly 
thought Fd get you out to-day.” 

"And I came out with the understanding that 
we are to get back in time for practice this after- 
noon. Next Saturday, a week from to-day, the 
team plays its first game.” 

"And will be beautifully beaten,” prophesied 
Hooker. 

"What makes you think so?” 

"Why shouldn’t I think so? The eleven is 
going to be weak this year. With Roger Eliot 
for captain, it made an unexpected success last 
fall; but Eliot is gone, and Stone, who was 
chosen to follow him as captain, never can be 
such a crafty, far-sighted general. The team 
was weakened fifty per cent by the loss of Eliot.” 

"Perhaps you’re right,” admitted Sage; "but 
you seem to forget that we ought to receive some 


THE HUNTERS 


9 


Strength from the development of new players. 
For instance, there's that fellow from Texas, 
Rodney Grant " 

‘'Oh, yes," nodded Roy quickly, “I suppose 
he'll help some, but it takes time to make a foot- 
ball player, and Grant has had little experience 
at the game. Stone realizes he's going to be shy 
of material, and he's coaxing everybody to come 
out for practice. He's been at me." 

“You're going to come out, aren't you?" 

“I don't know. Never did care a great deal 
about football. You know it's my ambition to 
be a baseball pitcher, and a fellow can't do every- 
thing." 

“Baseball is over now, and there’ll be no more 
until next spring. For the good of the team you 
ought to take hold and do your best to become 
a player and fill one of the weak spots." 

“And maybe get a broken leg or arm or collar- 
bone to set me back. A baseball player is taking 
chances when he goes in for football." 

“But if none of our ball players went in for 
football," reminded Sage, “we'd have no eleven. 


10 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

Our school isn't big enough for the two teams to 
be made up of distinct and independent bodies of 
players. YouVe quick, active and strong, Roy, 
and, if you choose to take hold and work hard, 
it seems to me you might become one of the 
valuable members of the eleven." 

‘‘Oh, possibly," admitted Hooker, attempting 
to conceal the fact that he was somewhat flat- 
tered. “I fancy I could do as well as some other 
fellows, Piper, Cooper or Tuttle, for instance. 
In a way they are mere makeshifts; none of them 
is a bang-up good football man." 

By this time they had crossed the pasture land 
and reached the edge of the covers, the dog be- 
traying a restless desire to get to work. Sage 
permitted the animal to go forward, directing his 
movements now and then by a word of command, 
and, with the guns held ready for quick use, the 
young hunters advanced slowly, keeping their 
eyes on the pointer the most of the time. They 
separated somewhat and went forward with the 
dog at the apex of an imaginary triangle. Nearly 
all the time the boys could see each other through 


THE HUNTEES 


11 


the scrub growth, which made it unlikely that 
either would place his friend in danger by care- 
less shooting. 

Moving hither and thither, sniffing, pausing, 
advancing, every hunting instinct alert, the dog 
did his work beautifully. Suddenly, with one 
foot uplifted, tail horizontal and rigid and muzzle 
thrust forward, the pointer became a statue of 
stone. Directly ahead of him, a few feet away, 
was a thick cluster of low bushes. 

'Toint, Roy — point!” called Sage softly, his 
repeater held in both hands and half lifted, ready 
for a quick shot. 

Immediately Hooker swerved toward the dog 
and advanced as swiftly and noiselessly as 
possible, in order to obtain a position for a shot 
when the bird should flush. Reaching a favor- 
able spot, he placed himself in position to shoot 
and waited for the rise. 

The seconds passed slowly — so slowly that to 
the anxious boys they seemed more like minutes. 
A chickadee flitted through the bushes, lighted 
on a branch within five feet of Roy, performed 


12 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 

some surprising horizontal bar evolutions and 
applauded himself in a ludicrously hoarse voice. 
Something rustled at a distance, like a creature 
running swiftly along the ground. Far away, 
so far that it was but faintly heard, the gun of 
some other hunter spoke. 

With a sudden whirr of wings a woodcock 
rose straight up from the further side of the 
cluster of bushes. The butt of Sage’s gun came 
to his shoulder, his eye caught the sights, and 
he fired. 

Hooker was a trifle slower, but ere Sage, real- 
izing that he had shot too quickly and therefore 
made a miss, could fire again, Roy’s weapon 
spoke. 

Down came the bird into the midst of the 
thicket. 

‘'Good work, old man,” cried Fred approv- 
ingly. “You got him. I shot under; didn’t wait 
for him to make his full rise. Go fetch, Spot.” 

The dog, released from the spell that had 
chained him motionless, plunged forward, sniffing 
around in search of the bird. In a few moments 


THE HUNTERS 


13 


he brought the dead woodcock and placed it at 
his master’s feet. 

'‘A plump fellow,” laughed Sage, holding the 
kill up for the other lad to see. ''That’s the first 
blood for you, Roy. Shall I put it in my bag?” 

"Sure ; I haven’t any. There’s likely more of 
them near by.” 

There were more, and Sage evened things up 
by bringing down the next one. After this both 
boys missed a shot, and, though they had tried 
to "mark” their birds when they lighted, they 
beat back and forth for more than half an hour 
without getting another flush. 

"Come on,” said Roy at last ; "I’m tired of this. 
There’s some good partridge timber near by, and 
I’d rather shoot one partridge than half a dozen 
woodcock.” 

"Every fellow to his taste,” laughed Sage. "I 
prefer the sport of woodcock shooting, and I cer- 
tainly hate to leave without getting either of 
those two birds up again.” 

He yielded, however, to Hooker’s urging, and 


14 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

they left the low covers for the adjacent timber, 
in which partridges might be found. 

The partridges were there, too. Roy put one 
up almost beneath his feet, but the timber was 
so thick at that point that he could not get even 
a chance shot with the slightest hope of success. 
While he was grumbling over this. Spot made a 
point and the partridge rose with a booming of 
wings before Sage could give his companion 
warning. 

Fred fired. 

‘‘Did you get her?’’ called Hooker. 

“I think I hit her,” was the answer. “I saw 
her go down. Come, Spot, we must dig that 
bird out.” 

Hooker started to follow, but had not ad- 
vanced thirty feet before still another partridge 
rose and went sailing away in another direction. 
This time Roy fired, but he did so under such a 
disadvantage and with so much haste that he had 
little hope of bringing down the game. 

“Confound it!” he muttered. “Are all these 
birds going to get away?” 


THE HUNTERS 15 

For a full minute he stood still in his tracks, 
peering into the woods on all sides and listening 
keenly. Then he removed the empty shell from 
his gun and slipped a loaded one into place. 

‘Tm going to follow that old bird I banged 
at,’^ he decided. ‘T don’t believe she went beyond 
the road that runs through these woods. If I 
can get her without the assistance of the dog, 
it will be a trick worth turning.” 

Having hurried after the partridge until he 
fancied he had reached a point where the bird 
might have alighted, he began creeping forward 
with the utmost caution, pausing every few yards 
to listen and use his eyes. Once an acorn, clip- 
ping down through the leaves and striking the 
ground, gave him a start, but it seemed that the 
partridge had flown farther than he thought, for 
presently, without again sighting the game, he 
approached the road. A short distance from the 
highway he stopped in his tracks and flung the 
gun to his shoulder, the barrel levelled toward 
some roadside bushes, near which he had heard 
a slight noise. 


16 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

Beyond the bushes a man rose into view from 
a stone on which he had been seated, and found 
himself looking straight into the muzzle of 
Hooker’s gun. 


CHAPTER IL 


THE mysterious stranger. 

Roy was tremendously startled. The gun had 
an easy pull, and his bent finger was gently 
touching the trigger, yet so astonished was he 
by the unexpected appearance of the man that 
for some moments he stood rigid with the weapon 
leveled at the stranger’s head. 

On the other hand, the man was no less dis- 
mayed. Not more than twenty-six or seven years 
of age, he was somewhat roughly dressed and 
decidedly in need of a shave. His eyes opened 
wide at sight of the threatening weapon, and a 
wave of pallor swept over his bronzed face. Not 
a word escaped his parted lips. 

Presently, with a catch of his breath. Hooker 
lowered the gun. 

''By Jove!” he cried, with a touch of resent- 
ment. "You came near getting shot, bobbing 
up that fashion from behind those bushes.” 

17 


18 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 

No longer menaced by the gun, the stranger 
seemed greatly relieved. Gradually the color re- 
turned to his face, and, his eyes searching the 
young hunter keenly, he gave a short, nervous 
laugh. 

'Tt’s pretty serious,'' he said, ''when a chap 
can't sit down by the roadside to rest without 
being in danger of getting himself peppered from 
a shotgun. You should make sure of the kind of 
game you're banging at, before you fire." 

"If I hadn't done so," returned Hooker, still 
feeling slightly resentful, "I'd probably blown 
your head off. I was following a partridge. Did 
you see one fly across the road a short time ago ?" 

"No, I didn't; but I haven't been here more 
than four or five minutes — perhaps not that 
long." 

The man had a pleasant, agreeable face, and 
Hooker thought that, were he shaved and better 
dressed, he would be a rather good-looking chap. 
Apparently he had not wholly recovered from 
the start which the sight of the armed boy had 


THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER 19 

given him, for he was still a bit nervous and 
uneasy. 

‘‘Maybe,’’ said Roy, “it took me longer than I 
thought to follow that old bird to this point. 
Perhaps she flew across the road before you 
came along.” 

“Are you alone?” asked the man. 

“I’m with a friend. He’s back in the woods 
somewhere with his dog.” 

“Of course you live near here?” 

“Yes, in Oakdale.” 

The man seemed interested. “Oakdale ; that’s 
a small town near by, isn’t it?” 

“You must be a total stranger in these parts,” 
said Roy, as he stepped out into the road. “Oak- 
dale is not more than three or four miles from 
here. It’s a country village.” He was wonder- 
ing if the man could be a tramp, but closer in- 
spection made this seem quite improbable, despite 
the stranger’s rough clothes and somewhat 
shabby appearance. 

“No, I don’t belong around here,” said the 


20 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 
man. 'Tm looking for work. Anything a fel- 
low can do in Oakdale?’’ 

don’t know about that, but I presume one 
could find some sort of work if he wasn’t too 
particular. There are two mills and some lime 
quarries, but the men who work in the quarries 
are mostly foreigners. What are your special 
qualifications?” 

‘T haven’t any,” was the frank confession. 
‘T’m ready to do any sort of work to earn an 
honest living.” 

'Tn that case, it shouldn’t be hard for you to 
find something.” 

‘Tt’s not as easy as you might think. You 
see, employers usually like to know something 
about the workmen they engage, and they are apt 
to be suspicious of a total stranger who looks a 
bit rough and down in his luck.” 

''Of course you’re ready to tell anyone about 
yourself and give references?” 

The young man shrugged his shoulders. "I 
don’t happen to have any references,” he an- 


THE MYSTEEIOUS STKANGEE 21 

swered. course I can answer questions about 
myself, but who would know I wasn’t lying?” 

you stated your last place of employment, 
it would be a simple matter to investigate your 
story.” 

Again that quick shrugging of the shoulders. 
''Yes, but supposing that, for reasons of my own, 
I didn’t care to tell where I’ve been employed?” 

"Reasons? What sort of reasons could you 
have, unless ” 

"It might be the case, you know, that I had had 
trouble with my former employer. Perhaps,” 
he went on hastily, "we quarreled over something 
for which I was not at all to blame, and that 
quarrel led to my leaving without giving due 
notice. You see, that would deprive me of refer- 
ences and would make it impossible for me to 
hope for any benefit by stating where and for 
whom I had worked.” 

"Yes, I see,” nodded Hooker slowly. "That 
would put you in bad. In such a case, unless 
someone was in great need of a man, I doubt if 
you could find employment,” 


22 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 

The stranger made a quick gesture with one 
hand. 

‘'There you are/’ he said; “or rather, there I 
am. Until you get up against it yourself, you’ll 
not be able to understand such a predicament, 
and I hope you’ll never have the misfortune to 
face such a situation.” 

Now Hooker had been led to believe that the 
misfortunes which usually befall a person, bar- 
ring ill health, were almost always the .result of 
incompetence, carelessness or dishonesty, and the 
fact that this stranger was wholly indisposed to 
make known his past history led the boy to re- 
gard him with doubt and suspicion. Perhaps the 
man understood something of what was passing 
in Roy’s mind, for suddenly he said : 

“You can see how it is; even you would hesi- 
tate about giving me work. That’s the way with 
everybody. They demand to know a person’s 
past; they want to pry into his private affairs. 
But I tell you,” he added, a trifle bitterly, “I feel 
that it’s none of their business, and I resent their 
impertinence. The man who gives me a job 


THE MYSTERIOUS STRANGER ’ 23 

at which I can earn an honest living will find 
me ready to do my work, and do it well. Why 
should he insist on probing private matters con- 
cerning me, any more than I should demand to 
know about his personal history? In fact, in 
many cases it would be to the advantage of the 
laborer if his employer were compelled to lay 
bare such secrets. A great many would be shown 
up as grinders of the poor, bloodsuckers living 
and growing fat upon the life-toll of others, un- 
feeling despots paying their workmen a mere 
pittance while they piled up riches by what those 
workmen produced. And some would be branded 
as dishonest rascals from whom their neighbors 
would shrink in abhorrence.’^ 

^'Jingoes!” exclaimed Hooker, fancying him- 
self enlightened by the vehement words of the 
stranger. guess I know what’s the matter 
with you. You must be a Socialist.” 

The man laughed. '‘That’s the usual term 
applied in these days to those who have courage* 
enough to question the honesty and fair deal- 
ing of a certain greedy, selfish brand of employ- 


THE GEE AT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 

ers. But Fm not claiming that all employers 
are of that sort. If they were, conditions in this 
country would be desperate indeed. But whaFs 
the use in talking to you of such things; you’re 
simply a boy, and at your age problems of that 
nature had never troubled me for a moment. At 
your age,” he continued, something like a dreamy 
look of sadness creeping into his blue eyes, 'T 
was as carefree and thoughtless as you are to- 
day. rd give a great deal if it were possible for 
me to go back to that time.” 

This statement served to convince Hooker 
that the stranger was carrying a secret locked in 
his heart, and that the secret was one which gave 
him no small amount of regret and remorse. 
Otherwise, why should a man in the very prime 
of his youth and vigor, a time to which Roy 
looked forward with eager anticipation, desire 
to blot out a portion of his life that he might re- 
turn to the days of his boyhood? 

The sad and dreamy look was gone in a mo- 
ment, and the stranger asked : 


“Have you lived long in Oakdale?” 


THE MYSTEEIOUS STKANGER 25 

“Brought up there/’ answered Hooker. 

“Then I presume you know nearly everyone 
in town?” 

“Sure. In a little place like that everybody 
knows everybody else.” 

The man’s next question gave the lad a start : 

“Do you know any people by the name of 
Sage?” 

“What? Sage? I should say so!” 

“Ah !” breathed the man. “There is a family 
by that name in Oakdale?” 

“Yes.” 

“How long have they been there?” 

“Let me see. About three years, I think.” 

“Where did they come from ? Do you know ?” 

“Not exactly, though I believe they came from^ 
somewhere in New York State. Why, Fred Sage 
is my chum.” 

“Oh, is he?” The stranger’s eyes were now 
bright with interest and his manner eager. 

“You bet he is,” nodded Roy. “He’s a fine 
chap, too. We’re gunning together to-day. He’s 
the fellow I spoke of. I left him back yonder 


26 THE GKEAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 
with his dog. Do you know the Sages? If you 
do, perhaps they might give you a recommenda- 
tion that would help you get work.’’ 

At this moment the report of a gun, only a 
short distance away, rang through the woods. 

“That’s Fred — that’s him now,” cried Hooker. 
“I’ll bet he bagged that old biddy.” Then he 
lifted his voice and shouted: '‘Hey, Fred! Here 
I am, out in the road. Did you get anything?” 

“I didn’t miss that time,” came back the tri- 
umphant answer. “It’s a partridge.” 

“The one I was after, I reckon,” said Roy, 
with a touch of chagrin. “She must have run 
on the ground so that I lost track of her. Here 
comes Fred now.” 

There was a sound of someone pushing 
through the underbrush, and Roy, facing the 
woods, waited for his chum to appear. In a few 
moments, followed by the dog. Sage came out 
of the woods, triumphantly holding aloft a dead 
partridge. 

“The other one fooled me and I lost her,” he 


THE MYSTEKIOUS STEANGER 27 

said; "'but I got a good open chance at this old 
biddy. She didn't get away." 

"She got away from me," said Roy. "Fm sure 
that's the one I chased, but she gave me the slip 
all right. I was so hot after her that I came 
near shooting " 

He stopped abruptly, his mouth open as he 
looked around for the mysterious stranger. To 
his astonishment, the man had disappeared. 


CHAPTER III. 


THE HOME OE THE SAGES. 

“Well, what do you know about that?*' mut- 
tered Hooker wonderingly. “He’s gone.” 

“Who?” questioned Fred, reaching the road. 

“The man — the man I was talking with. He 
was sitting right here on this stone when I came 
sneaking down through the woods, and I almost 
shot his head off. He rose up into view just in 
time. Where the dickens has he gone?” 

In both directions a strip of road lay in plain 
view, but, save themselves, there was no human 
being to be seen upon it. 

“When did he go?” questioned Sage. 

“After you fired; while I was watching for 
you to come out of the woods. He was right 
here within five feet of me. I can’t understand 
how he got away so quickly without my knowing 
it. He must have put off into the woods on the 
other side.” 


28 


THE HOME OF THE SAGES 

^What made him do that?’’ 

‘'You’ve got me. He was a stranger around 
these parts, and said he w^s looking for work. 
There was something queer about him, too. He 
was a good, healthy looking specimen, and he 
didn’t seem like a hobo, though his clothes were 
rather rough. He talked like an educated man. 
Say, Fred, he asked about you.” 

“About meT' exclaimed Sage in surprise. 
“Why, how was that?” 

“Don’t know. He asked if there was a family 
by the name of Sage in Oakdale and how long 
they had been there. He must be someone who 
knows you, Fred.” 

“Describe him.” 

Roy did so as well as he was able, but his 
friend did not seem at all enlightened. 

“I can’t imagine who he was,” said Fred. “The 
description doesn’t seem to fit anyone I know. 
Did he give his name?” 

“No; I forgot to ask it. He talked like a So- 
cialist or an Anarchist, although he didn’t look 
to be a very desperate character. And he seemed 


30 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

nervous and troubled about something or other, 
but perhaps that was because he fancied he had 
come so near getting himself shot. When he 
saw me, with the gun leveled straight at him, 
he turned pale.’' 

‘T don’t wonder,” said Fred, with a laugh. 'Tt 
was enough to give anyone a start. I don’t see 
what made him run away, and I wish he’d waited 
until I could have taken a look at him.” 

‘Terhaps he was somebody who knew you 
before you came to Oakdale.” 

Sage frowned a bit. ‘Ht doesn’t seem likely, 
and yet, of course, it may be so. Well, we can’t 
fret ourselves about him. Let’s go on with the 
hunt. Spot is getting restless.” 

For some time the pointer had been running 
back and forth in the road, turning at intervals 
to gaze inquiringly at his master and whine be- 
seechingly. Apparently the dog was wondering 
why the boys should linger there, with the woods 
all about them and their success thus far giving 
ample evidence that there was plenty of game to 
be had for the hunting. 


THE HOME OF THE SAGES 31 

Absorbed once more in the search for birds, 
both lads seemingly dismissed all thoughts 
of the stranger and his puzzling behavior; but, 
had he possessed the faculty of reading his com- 
panion’s mind, Hooker would have been sur- 
prised to discover that, far from dismissing such 
thoughts. Sage was not a little troubled by them. 
Indeed, so deeply plunged was he in mental 
speculations that he failed to note when the dog 
next made a point, and he flushed the bird unex- 
pectedly by the careless manner in which he 
stumbled forward through the underbrush. 
Taken thus unawares, he could not recover his 
self-possession in time to shoot, and. Hooker be- 
ing in no position to fire, the game got away un- 
touched, not a little to the disgust of Spot. 

'What’s the matter with you, Fred?” called 
Roy sharply. "You almost stepped on that one. 
Didn’t you see Spot point?” 

"No,” was the regretful confession, "I didn’t 
notice it.” 

"I started to call to you, but I thought you 


32 


THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


knew your business and were ready to pepper 
away when the bird flushed/’ 

Later, when they ran into a covey of wood- 
cock, Fred was astonishingly slow about shoot- 
ing, and Hooker brought down two birds to his 
one, which seemed rather remarkable, as Sage 
was much the better wing shot. It was Fred, too, 
who, seeming the first to tire of the sport, finally 
proposed that they should go home. 

“There’s time enough,” objected Roy. “Prac- 
tice doesn’t begin until three o’clock, and it’s not 
yet noon.” 

“But I’ll need to rest up a bit after this tramp. 
I’ve got enough, anyhow.” 

On the way back to the village Sage suddenly 
asked Hooker once more to describe the stranger, 
and when Roy had complied he again asserted 
that he had not the least idea as to the man’s 
identity. 

It was nearly one o’clock when Sage reached 
his home, a comfortable, well-kept story-and-a- 
half house on the outskirts of the village, but 
he found that his mother had kept dinner waiting 


THE HOME OF THE SAGES 33 

for him, for which he scolded her in a laughing 
fashion. 

“No need to put yourself to so much trouble, 
mother,'’ he said. “I could have done just as 
well with a cold lunch from the pantry." 

“It was no trouble, my boy," she replied, affec- 
tion in her tone and in the glance she gave him. 
“We knew you would be home, for you said 
there was to be football practice this afternoon, 
and it was your father who suggested that we 
should wait for you." 

She was not an old woman, but her hair was 
snowy white, and there was something in her 
face and the depths of her gentle eyes which in- 
dicated that her life had not been wholly free 
from care and sorrow. 

Fred's father, who had been reading in the 
sitting room, put aside his newspaper and came 
into the dining-room, rubbing his hands together 
as he peered at the boy over the gold-bowed 
spectacles that clung to his nose. 

“Well, what luck, young man?" he asked. 
“Did you find any shooting worth while?" 


34 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

‘We got seven woodcock and three par- 
tridges/’ answered Fred; “but Roy shot the most 
of them, though he insisted on dividing them. I 
made him take the odd partridge, though, keep- 
ing only one for mother, as she doesn’t care 
for woodcock.” 

“H’m!” nodded Andrew Sage slowly. “How 
did you happen to let him outshoot you, Fred? 
With that new gun of yours, I thought you’d 
make a record. Doesn’t it shoot as well as you 
expected ?” 

“Oh, the gun is all right. I suppose I was a 
bit off form.” 

He was on the point of telling them of the 
unknown man who had questioned Hooker about 
the Sages living in Oakdale and then run away 
in such a perplexing manner on Fred’s approach, 
but something seemed to caution him to remain 
silent, and he did so. 

Like Roy Hooker, the people of Oakdale knew 
little about the Sages, save that they had lived 
in the place for three years having moved there 
from some distant state. Andrew Sage was a 


THE HOME OF THE SAGES 


35 


man nearly sixty years of age, with the speech 
and bearing of a person of education and refine- 
ment. He had purchased a tiny farm of some 
twenty acres, the buildings of which were 
promptly repaired, remodelled within and thor- 
oughly painted. The grounds in the vicinity of 
the buildings were cleared and graded, with the 
exception of a picket-fenced front yard, where 
an old-fashioned flower garden had been choked 
out by weeds. Of course the fence was straight- 
ened up, repaired and given several coats of 
paint, and the flower garden was restored to its 
former state of blooming fragrance and beauty; 
but this work was done at the direction of Mrs. 
Sage, who seemed to find in that garden some- 
thing to occupy her mind and give her many 
hours of pleasure. Her knowledge of flowers 
and their proper care was much superior to the 
knowledge displayed by her husband in the vege- 
table garden, which he planted and attended. The 
neighbors often remarked that it was plain 
enough that Andrew Sage had never turned his 
hand to such labor before coming to Oakdale. 


36 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

That the Sages possessed an income sufficient 
to support them modestly was likewise evident, 
for they lived comfortably and paid their bills 
promptly, although Mr. Sage worked upon his 
own property only, and, as conducted, that 
brought in practically no revenue whatever. 

The little household was held together by 
strong bands of understanding and affection 
which would have been apparent enough to any- 
one who could have watched them this day at 
their belated dinner. Into their pleasant conver- 
sation there entered no jarring note, and their 
thoughtfulness and consideration for one another 
was of the finest sort. The atmosphere of that 
home was truly such as it should be, comfortable, 
homelike, fraught with an indescribable some- 
thing that always makes such a place the best- 
loved spot on earth. 

It was natural that Fred’s mother should speak 
of football and its dangers and express her re- 
gret that he should care to take part in such 
sport. And in supporting Fred’s arguments in 
favor of the game, it was diplomatic of his father 


THE HOME OF THE SAGES 37 

to seem, in a way, to favor both sides of the 
question, while all the time he was cleverly re- 
assuring the apprehensive woman. Andrew 
Sage's skill in this form of controversy not only 
made it much easier for Fred, but checked, in a 
great measure, the worriment of the boy's 
mother. 

When he reached the football field that after- 
noon Fred found Roy Hooker telling a group of 
boys about the encounter with the mysterious 
stranger. Of those boys Billy Piper, familiarly 
known as ^'Sleuth" on account of his yearning 
desire to emulate the feats of detective heroes 
of fiction, appeared to be the most deeply inter- 
ested. The others showed a disposition to treat 
the afifair as something of minor importance or 
no importance whatever. 

^'Through what I can gather from your state- 
ments, Hooker," said Sleuth, 'T am led to infer 
that this unknown party may have been a red- 
handed criminal fleeing from justice. Or, per- 
chance, to look at the matter in another light, 
he was a person deeply wronged, seeking to visit 


38 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

retribution on the head of one who had injured 
him. I say, Sage,'’ he called, catching sight of 
Fred, ''have you any reason to suppose that you 
or any of your immediate relatives may have a 
bitter and remorseless enemy who seeks reprisal 
for some fancied injury in the dark and buried 
years of the past?" 

"As far as I know," answered Fred, "we have 
not an enemy in the world." 

"And you haven't a notion as to the identity 
of the mysterious stranger who made inquiries 
about you and then ran away before you could 
get a look at him?" 

"Not the remotest idea." 

"Hah!" breathed Piper in deep satisfaction. 
"The plot thickens. I scent a mystery of deep 
and terrible significance. The clues are faint 
indeed, but they shall not baffle me. If this un- 
known stranger lingers in the vicinity of Oak- 
dale, I'll yet lay bare his foul designs and foil 
him in his fell purpose." 

"Oh, slush !" cried Phil Springer. "You've got 
another bad attack. Pipe. You bub-better forget 


THE HOME OF THE SAGES 


39 


it. Here comes Stoney. Let's start practice, 
fellows." 

The group dissolved, leaving Piper, his arms 
folded, his eyes fixed upon the ground, in pro- 
found meditation. 


CHAPTER IV. 

A MAN ‘^VaNTED."^ 

Captain Stone, who seemed to be amazingly 
conversant with the new football rules, which 
of late he had studied faithfully during all his 
spare moments, tried hard to impart an under- 
standing of them to the other boys, the most of 
whom were eager to learn, their willingness 
keeping them at practice until the gathering 
darkness finally forced them to stop. 

Upon the occasion of his son leaving Oakdale 
Academy for the purpose of taking a final col- 
lege preparatory year in one of the leading prep 
schools of the country, Urian Eliot had contrib- 
uted five hundred dollars for the purpose of 
carrying out a plan for certain improvements of 
the Oakdale gymnasium. These improvements 
had been made, and now in one end of the for- 
mer bowling alley there were heated dressing 
40 


A MA'N ^^WANTED' 


41 


rooms and a number of shower baths. This 
made it possible for the boys to take their showers 
after practice or games, and then rub down and 
dress in comfort. 

Hurrying to the gym, Fred Sage lost no time 
in stripping off his soiled and sweaty football 
clothes and making a dive for one of the shower 
compartments. The rooms resounded with the 
voices of the boys, and from some of the show- 
ers rose whoops and boos and strange gasps 
mingling with the hissing rush and drip of water. 

''Hey, there, Cooper!'' called a voice. "What 
are you doing? Turn on the cold. You'll parboil 
yourself in a minute. Look, fellers — look a' the 
steam coming out of Chipper's cell!" 

"Aw, go on and mind your business," came 
from the steaming compartment. "I always 
start with it warm and turn off the hot gradually 
till it's cold enough to suit me." 

"And that's abaout cold enough to bile aigs," 
chuckled Sile Crane, a lanky country boy who 
talked through his nose. "Hurry up there. Chip- 
per, and give a feller a chance. Tuttle's treatin' 


42 THE GKEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 
on peanuts, and you won’t git none if you don’t 
git a move on.” 

‘‘Somebody can have my place,” said Sage, as 
he shot out of the compartment, dripping icy 
water from every part of his shining body. 
“Where’s my towel ? I left it right here. Some- 
body has swiped my towel.” 

In a moment he had found the towel and was 
using it vigorously. A thorough scrubbing set 
his firm flesh aglow, and he jumped into his 
clothes feeling as fresh and vigorous as if he 
had not tramped the forenoon through, carrying 
a gun, and followed that up by an afternoon of 
strenuous football practice. He was almost fully 
dressed when he observed Sleuth Piper, still 
adorned in football togs, standing a short dis- 
tance away and regarding him through half 
closed lids. In some story Sleuth had read that 
whenever he wished to concentrate his mind on 
any perplexing problem the hero of the yarn 
always gazed fixedly at some object through 
partly closed eyelids. 

“Hi, there, Pipe!” called Fred sharply. “Going 


A MAN “WANTED^ 


43 


to sleep? Wake up. Going to wear those rags 
the rest of the evening?’’ 

''Hush!” said Piper, frowning and lifting a 
reproving hand. "Don’t interrupt me that way 
when my mind is at work upon a problem.” 

"Forget it,” advised Fred. "You’ll be late for 
supper. Caesar’s ghost ! but Fm as hungry as a 
bear.” 

He was the first one to leave the gymnasium, 
and he strode away whistling. In a few mo- 
ments, however, he ceased to whistle and pro- 
ceeded with his head slightly bent and his hands 
sunk deep in his pockets. Finally, with a shake 
of his shoulders, he tossed back his head, mut- 
tering : 

"Confound Sleuth, anyhow ! He’s always try- 
ing to make a deep, dark mystery out of any un- 
usual occurrence. It was queer that the man 
should ask about the Sages and then run away 
when he knew I was coming, but it isn’t likely 
he’ll ever be seen again by anyone around here, 
so what’s the use for me to addle my brains 
over it?” 


44 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

Truly, Fred seemed ''hungry as a bear,’’ and 
the manner in which he swept the food from the 
supper table made his mother gasp and caused his 
father to chuckle. 

"One thing about football,” said Mr. Sage, 
"boys who play the game aren’t apt to be finicky 
about their food. How did you get along at the 
field this afternoon, son?” 

"First rate, everything considered. Of course 
the new rules are going to bother us a little, but 
Stone seems wise to them, and I fancy he’ll be 
able to do pretty well with the team, though of 
course we’re going to miss Eliot.” 

"A fine boy, Roger Eliot,” nodded Andrew 
Sage. 

"Sure thing,” agreed Fred instantly; "and his 
father comes pretty near being the real thing, 
too. When we first came to Oakdale people 
were saying that Urian Eliot was cold and close- 
fisted, but look what he did for the school. 
We’ve got a new gym now, heated and lighted 
and fitted out with shower baths, like a first- 


A MAN ^mNTED” 45 

class place. I tell you, the fellows take ofif their 
hats to Mr. Eliot these days.’' 

‘'Oakdale people are just beginning to realize 
that Eliot has done a great deal for the town,” 
said Mr. Sage. “He’s one of our solid, reliable 
citizens. Only for him, we’d still be without a 
bank.” 

After supper Andrew Sage lighted his pipe, 
and Fred, feeling no desire to go out, settled 
down to a book before the comfortable open fire 
in the sitting room. 

An hour had not passed when there came a 
ring at the door-bell, and Fred himself rose at 
once to answer. On the steps stood a dark figure 
with coat collar upturned and cap pulled well 
down. Blinded a little by the sudden change 
from light to darkness, the boy failed to recog- 
nize the caller. 

“Good evening,” he said. 

“’St!” came back a sibilant hiss. “It’s me. 
Piper. Why don’t you ask a feller in? Almost 
cold enough to freeze to-night.” 

“Oh, come in. Sleuth,” was the invitation, and 


46 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

the visitor lost no time in stepping out of the 
chilly wind that swept round the corner of the 
house. 

‘What brings you up here at this hour?’' 
questioned Fred. 

“Hush! Fm doing my duty. Fm gathering 
up the scattered threads one by one. The skein 
shall be untangled.” 

Piper was known to Mr. and Mrs. Sage, who 
spoke to him pleasantly, although both were 
somewhat surprised by this, his first, visit to 
their home. Having removed his cap and 
jammed it into the side pocket of his coat. Sleuth 
deported himself in his usual mysterious man- 
ner when “investigating,” and suddenly the other 
boy began to fear that he would speak of the 
stranger in the presence of the older people. 

“Fm glad you dropped around. Pipe,” said 
Fred. “I suppose you want to talk football? 
Come on up to my room; we can chin there as 
much as we like.” 

The caller was more than willing, and they 
mounted the stairs to Fred’s room, which was 


A MAN ^^WANTED' 


47 


large, comfortable and exceedingly well fur- 
nished. But Piper, still bearing himself ^^pro- 
fessionally,'’ gave little heed to the aspect of the 
room. 

"I've come," he announced, declining to sit 
down, ""to propound a few vital questions, which 
I trust you may see fit to answer without evasion 
or subterfuge." 

""What's this?" laughed Sage. ""Is it a court 
of inquiry?" 

""Not exactly. Of course there is no compul- 
sion in the matter, but, assuming that you have 
nothing to conceal, there should be no reason for 
refusing the information I require." 

""Oh, say. Sleuth, don't you ever get tired of 
it? It must be wearisome, searching for these 
deep, dark mysteries in a quiet, uneventful 
country town like Oakdale. Of course I know 
what you're driving at, and in this case I think 
you're trying to make something out of nothing 
— and that's impossible." 

Piper shook his head. With his hands locked 
behind his back, he slowly paced the floor. 


48 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 

''You are like the usual order of persons who 
lack the analytical mind/’ he retorted. '^You 
fail to see the true significance of apparently 
commonplace events. I am different. At this 
moment I feel assured that we are face to face 
with one of the most perplexing mysteries on 
record. I’ve interviewed Hooker this evening, 
and from him I obtained a certain amount of 
information concerning the mysterious man he 
encountered in the woods beyond Culver’s 
Bridge. According to his statement, that man 
was about twenty-six years of age, and appar- 
ently something like five feet and ten inches in 
height. Hooker judged that this person should 
weigh in the neighborhood of one hundred and 
sixty pounds. His complexion was medium, and 
he had hair slightly curly. His eyes were blue, 
his teeth white and even, and his smile pleasant. 
His voice was agreeable, but he showed traces 
of nervousness and anxiety. He spoke with some 
bitterness of people who had wealth and em- 
ployed laborers. Roy states that, as far as he 


A MAN ^^WANTED” 49 

could see, the man bore no peculiarly distinguish- 
ing mark, like a scar or deformity/’ 

''Well,” said Fred, lounging on the Morris 
chair, "why should the appearance of such a 
stranger interest you so deeply?” 

"Wait,” said Piper, halting in front of Sage’s 
chair. "This man made inquiries concerning 
your family. He must have known you.” 

"We’ve lived in Oakdale only three years. 
There are people outside of this place who know 
us.” 

"Quite true; but when he learned that you 
were near at hand, and when he heard you ap- 
proaching, the man disappeared in a most as- 
tounding, inexplicable and unaccountable man- 
ner. He didn’t wait until you should come forth 
to meet him face to face.” 

"That was rather odd,” admitted Sage. 

"And, furthermore, you have stated that you 
have no idea who the person can be.” 

"Not the slightest.” 

"Is there anything connected with your past 


50 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 
or that of your parents which, for good and suf- 
ficient reasons, you wish to conceal?’’ 

Fred sat up suddenly. ‘Why should you im- 
agine anything of that sort?” he retorted 
sharply. “Of course it’s nonsense.” 

“H’m !” said Sleuth. “It’s a rare family closet 
that doesn’t contain a skeleton.” 

“Well, Piper, if you’ve come here to pry into 
private family affairs, you may as well chase 
yourself at once.” 

“Restrain your annoyance, Sage; check your 
angry resentment. If you choose to unbosom 
yourself to me in my professional capacity, you 
may do so with the assurance of my honorable 
intention to hold inviolate any secret with which 
I may be entrusted.” 

Fred’s face was flushed and he betrayed an- 
noyance, which, however, he endeavored to re- 
strain. 

“Cut out that fol-de-rol. Piper. There’s no 
reason why I should tell you any family secrets, 
if we happen to have them. As you’ve just said, 
doubtless there are few families who do not have 


A MAN ‘^WANTED^ 


51 


some minor secrets they choose to keep hidden; 
but, as a rule, such things concern no others than 
those personally interested. Again, let me repeat 
that you are trying to make something out of 
nothing, and it’s extremely ridiculous.” 

‘Terhaps so,” retorted Sleuth. ''But tell me, 
did you ever hear of a man by the name of James 
Wilson?” 

"Never. What has he to do with the matter?” 

The visitor drew a folded newspaper from an 
inner pocket of his coat. "It’s my custom,” he 
said, "to take special note of the records of crime 
and criminals as contained in the press of the 
day. I never overlook anything of the sort. 
Here in this paper is the description of one James 
Wilson, alias 'William Hunt,’ alias 'Philip Hast- 
ings,’ but known among his pals as 'Gentleman 
Jim.’ This man is described as twenty-six years 
of age, five feet, ten inches in height, and weigh- 
ing one hundred and sixty pounds. While there 
are no distinguishing marks upon his person, he 
has blue eyes ; a medium complexion ; hair 
slightly curly; white, even teeth; a pleasant 


52 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 
smile; an agreeable voice; and white, shapely 
hands, which show evidence of recent arduous 
labor. This labor was performed in prison, from 
which Jim Wilson has but lately been released. 
He is a confidence man and safe-breaker, and it 
seems that his prison experience has done little, 
to cure him of his criminal proclivities, for it is 
suspected that since his release he has been con- 
cerned in certain unlawful operations. One week 
ago he was arrested in Harpersville, which is 
just over the state line, and placed in jail to 
await the arrival of officers who wanted him. 
But Mr. Wilson, alias William Hunt,’ alias 
Thilip Hastings,’ alias 'Gentleman Jim,’ is a slip- 
pery customer, and he didn’t remain in that in- 
secure jail. Instead of doing so, he broke out 
of his cell, cracked the guard’s skull, and made 
good his escape. The guard is not expected to 
live, and the authorities have oflFered a reward of 
five hundred dollars for the capture of the mur- 
derous scoundrel.” 

'Well!” breathed Sage, who had listened with 


A MAN ^^WANTED’ 


53 


swiftly increasing interest. '‘Do you think this 
James Wilson and the stranger Hooker talked 
with this forenoon are one and the same?’’ 

"I haven’t a doubt of it,” declared Sleuth. 


CHAPTER V. 


BY Tut I.IGHT FROM THK WINDOW. 

''But that/’ said Fred, "is practically a mat- 
ter of supposition with you; you have no real 
proof/’ 

"Proof?” returned Piper reprovingly. "Why 
not? The circumstances are significant, and it’s 
only the bigoted person who denies the value of 
circumstantial evidence in criminal cases. The 
description of James Wilson applies perfectly to 
the mysterious stranger with whom Hooker con- 
versed.” 

"If you’ll think it over a bit, that description 
might apply to a great many persons. Wilson 
seems fortunate in having practically no per- 
sonal characteristics by which he might readily 
be identified. It seems to me. Piper, that, cast- 
ing aside your professed caution and acuteness, 
you have jumped at a conclusion. Simply be- 

54 


BY THE LIGHT FROM THE WINDOW 55 
cause you happen to read about an ex-convict 
who has recently broken jail in a neighboring 
state, and the description of this convict, al- 
though in a way indefinite and unsatisfactory, 
apparently applies to a stranger in these parts, 
you immediately decide that the convict and the 
stranger are one and the same. Tm surprised 
at you. Sleuth.’" 

'Wait a moment,” said Piper, holding up his 
finger. "Let me ask you a question. Since you 
came to Oakdale, how often have you seen stran- 
gers in these parts who looked like tramps, talked 
like educated men, and deported themselves in 
a manner which, without the least stretch of 
fancy, could be called mysterious ?” 

"Seldom,” admitted Sage. 

"Never before,” asserted Piper. 

"And, because this happens to be the first in- 
stance of the sort, you feel confident in your 
hasty conclusion. Pm afraid you’ll never make 
a great detective. Sleuth, for in stories, at least, 
they never jump at conclusions, and they always 


56 


THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


make sure they’re right before forming a defi- 
nite opinion.” 

Piper was not pleased by these words. He 
frowned heavily and shook his head. 

''You can’t deny,” he retorted, "that it was 
most strange that the man should inquire for 
your family and then take flight when he learned 
^that you were about to appear before him.” 

"That, I admit, was odd indeed. Nevertheless, 
I do not think it justifies you in seeking to con- 
nect us with the ex-convict, James Wilson. It’s 
scarcely necessary for me to tell you that we 
have never known such a man.” 

"It gives me no small amount of satisfaction,” 
said Sleuth, "to hear that statement from your 
lips, even though it may, in a measure, make my 
work more difficult.” 

"Your work? What do you propose to do?” 

"I hope to lay this safe-cracker by the heels. 
I hope to enmesh him in the toils and turn him 
over to the stern hand of justice.” 

"In which case it seems to me that your proper 


BY THE LIGHT FKOM THE WINDOW 57 


course would be to notify the officers. Why 
don’t you go to Deputy Sheriff Pickle?” 

‘"Haw!” cried Sleuth, contemptuously snap- 
ping his fingers. ‘'That would be the height of 
folly. These rural officers are blockheads in 
ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, and William 
Pickle is no exception. For instance, recall the 
bungling mess he made of it when he arrested 
your friend, Benjamin Stone. Only for me. 
Stone might have been convicted of a crime he 
never committed.” 

“You helped get Ben out of an unpleasant pre- 
dicament,” admitted Sage; “but in that case 
Pickle did his duty, according to instructions. If 
you are so positive that you’re not bungling in 
this case, you’ll require the assistance of Mr. 
Pickle, for you can’t expect to capture James 
Wilson unaided.” 

“And so you would advise me to apply to 
Pickle? You would advise me to tell him my 
deductions, through which he would be enabled, 
perhaps, to capture this jail-breaker and get the 
reward of five hundred dollars? That’s what 


58 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 
would happen if he made the capture ; he'd claim 
the reward, and get it. Oh, I know Bill Pickle !" 

‘Tf you gave the information on which the 
man was arrested, doubtless you could claim and 
obtain a portion of the reward money." 

''Perhaps so, and perhaps not. I tell you I 
know Bill Pickle. He'd get it all if he could." 

"But, having talked with Roy Hooker of this 
matter, how do you expect to keep it secret long 
enough to do anything yourself?" 

"I didn't tell Hooker about James Wilson. I 
simply questioned him regarding the stranger, 
and learned enough to satisfy me that he and 
Wilson must be the same man." 

"Well, how did you happen to tell me so 
much ?" 

Sleuth hesitated. "You see, I — I thought it 
might be — well, different in your case," he stum- 
bled. "I fancied there might be reasons why you 
wouldn't care to say anything about it." 

Sage rose to his feet. "You make me tired. 
Piper," he said, with a touch of angry reproof. 
"It's evident that you did think my family was 


BY THE LIGHT FEOM THE WINDOW 59 
somehow connected with this criminal, whom we 
might be inclined to shield. Just to show you 
what a bungler you really are, I think ITl tell 
Pickle myself/’ 

In a moment the visitor was thrown into the 
utmost consternation. Seizing Fred by the arm, 
he cried : 

''Don’t do that — don’t! Why, if you did, and 
Pickle should happen to catch the man and he 
turned out to be the right one, you’d get part of 
the reward! That wouldn’t be fair to me, Fred, 
and you know it. Give a chap a square deal, old 
man.” 

"If you’re right in your suspicions. Piper, it’s 
a bad thing to have this jail-breaker prowling 
around Oakdale, and it’s your duty to notify the 
local officers.” 

"But supposing,” protested Sleuth, "that, by 
some unusual chance, I should be mistaken? You 
can see what that would mean. I might get the 
wrong man arrested and make an awful mess of 
it. I might become the laughing stock of the vil- 


60 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 
lage. My professional reputation might be 
blasted/' 

''Oh, then you're not nearly as confident as you 
pretended to be ? It seems to me like a huge joke, 
Piper, and if you'll take my advice, you'll stop 
cramming your head with foolish detective yarns 
and abandon the idea that you possess any spe- 
cial talents in the way of detecting criminals or 
fathoming mysteries. The last I heard about 
you, you were trying to write stories, and, by the 
way of amusement, I advise you to rely upon 
that occupation. Not that I imagine you’ll ever 
write anything printable, but it might serve to 
keep you from the rather obnoxious habit of 
poking your nose into affairs which don't con- 
cern you." 

Thus reproved. Sleuth found it difficult to re- 
strain his indignation and resentment. 

"You're like everybody else around here," he 
cried. "But you should remember the old saying 
that a prophet is never without honor save in his 
own country. Some day I'll show these people 
a thing or two, see if I don't. I'll make them sit 


BY THE LIGHT FROM THE WINDOW 61 

up and take notice. They may think Billy 
Piper's a fool, but Pll show them. Say, Sage, 
give me a little time on this case; don't run 
straight to Pickle with what I've told you. Prom- 
ise me you won't do that." 

In spite of himself, Fred laughed. 'If I really 
thought there was one chance in a hundred that 
you had guessed right, I might insist on telling 
Pickle, providing you refused to do so. Not hav- 
ing the slightest confidence in your so-called 'de- 
ductions,' I'm willing to keep still." 

"Thanks," said Piper. "Some fellows I 
wouldn't trust, even on their promise ; but I know 
you, and I'm sure you'll do nothing without first 
consulting me. I think I'll be going." 

Sage descended and bade Piper good-night at 
the door, watching Sleuth slouch away toward 
the distant lights of the village, a few of which 
gleamed through the darkness. Andrew Sage 
glanced up as the boy returned to the sitting- 
room. 

"Well," he said, "been discussing football, 
son ?" 


62 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

''Not exactly/’ answered Fred. "Piper had 
something else on his mind.” 

"Isn’t he a bit queer?” asked Mrs. Sage, who 
was employing herself with some needlework in 
front of the open fire. 

"Most persons think he is.” 

"He behaves so oddly. Does he always act 
like that?” 

"Oh, it’s Piper’s way. The fellows don’t pay 
much attention to it, though they josh him some- 
times.” 

Fred attempted again to interest himself in his 
book, but in spite of his efforts, his mind wan- 
dered from the story, and he repeatedly found 
himself thinking of Sleuth and the matter they 
had discussed. There was, of course, a remote 
possibility that Piper had not made a mistake 
in fancying the stranger in Oakdale was James 
Wilson, for whose capture a large reward had 
been offered; and only for his promise to remain 
silent Fred might have told his parents. He was 
inclined to regret that unconsidered pledge. 
Presently, his eyes drooping, he decided to go to 


BY THE LIGHT FEOM THE WINDOW 63 

bed, and bade his father and mother good-night. 

In his room he paced the floor, thinking it all 
over, his perplexity increasing. 

“I can’t understand why that man ran away 
after asking about us,” he muttered. “That’s 
what gets m’e. If I hadn’t been afraid of giving 
mother uneasiness, I’d have told about it when 
I first came home. Piper can’t be right, for cer- 
tainly we don’t know any convicts and jail- 
breakers.” 

As if his final words had given him a shock, 
he stopped in his tracks, his lips parted, his face 
paling somewhat, and for some moments he 
stood thus, without moving. Presently he re- 
sumed his walk up and down the room, his brows 
knitted, his manner absorbed. At last he stopped 
and laughed shortly as he thought of Piper pac- 
ing the floor in almost precisely that same way. 

“Oh, he’s a joke. Pm going to bed.” 

The strenuous diversions of the day had given 
him a healthy weariness which he was now feel- 
ing, and it did not take him long to undress. He 
had put out the light when he remembered that 


64 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

his window was still closed, and he turned to 
open it. 

With his hand on the sash he paused, an elec- 
tric thrill shooting through his body. Directly 
beneath his room the light from a lower window 
shone forth into the darkness, falling upon the 
dimly seen figure of a man, who, with his hat 
pulled down over his eyes, was standing where 
he could look into the sitting-room. 

For some seconds Fred remained rigid, watch- 
ing the motionless man. In an instant he had 
become convinced that it was the stranger with 
whom Hooker had talked, but the baffling hat- 
brim prevented Fred from seeing the fellow’s 
face. 

Suddenly, as if becoming aware that someone 
was near who had no right to be there, the dog 
barked in the room below. Immediately the man 
drew hastily back from the border of light and 
retreated into the darkness. 

In a twinkling Fred Sage was leaping into his 
clothes. The dog, quieted by a word from Mr. 
Sage, did not bark again. The deep darkness be- 


BY THE LIGHT FEOM THE WINDOW G5 


neath a tree near the house had enfolded the 
man. 

Fred did not strike a light. With his hastily 
donned clothes barely clinging to him, he caught 
up a pair of rubber-soled '‘sneakers,’’ thrust his 
feet into them, opened the door of his room 
quickly but quietly, and crept down the stairs. 
He could hear his father and mother talking, 
but they did not hear him as he turned the key 
in the lock of the door and let himself out. 

Quivering with excitement, the boy reached 
the corner of the house and peered round it. He 
could see no one, although the tree beneath which 
the man had vanished was only a short distance 
away. 

"If I can find him. I’ll demand to know what 
business he has around here,” thought Fred. "If 
mother knew, she’d be badly frightened.” 

Summoning all his courage, he stepped out 
boldly and advanced toward the tree, but when 
he reached it there was still no living creature 
to be seen. 

Twice Sage circled the buildings without re- 


66 


THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


suit, and he became satisfied that the unknown 
had lost no time in departing. 

‘‘But it’s mighty queer,” he muttered — 
“mighty queer. I don’t understand it. Perhaps 
I ought to tell father, but if I do I know mother 
won’t sleep to-night.” 

Silently though he reentered the house. Spot 
barked again, and Fred’s father opened the door 
into the hall. 

“Just stepped outdoors for a minute,” said the 
boy. “It’s going to be a good day to-morrow, I 
think.” 

“Oh, is it you?” said Mr. Sage. “Spot barked, 
and your mother thought he heard something. 
We had an idea you were abed.” 

“I’m going now. Good-night. Good-night, 
mother.” 

“Good-night, Fred,” called his mother in re- 
sponse, and Mr. Sage closed the door. 

For more than half an hour Fred watched 
from his unlighted window. He heard his par- 
ents retire, and the light no longer shone forth 
from the sitting-room. His eyes had become ac- 


BY THE LIGHT FBOM THE WINDOW 67 

customed to the darkness and he could see cer- 
tain objects in the vicinity of the house, but they 
were all familiar objects, and amid them no 
strange shadow moved. 

‘Til have to tell father and mother to-mor- 
row,’’ decided the boy, as he finally got into bed. 

Again and again during the night he dreamed 
of the mysterious stranger, and once he awoke 
panting from a terrific hand-to-hand struggle 
with the man. It brought him up to gaze once 
more from the window, through which came the 
chill air of the autumn night. 

“I’m a fool,” he whispered, his teeth chatter- 
ing with the cold. “I’m going to sleep now, and 
see if I can’t dodge those silly dreams. Con- 
found Sleuth Piper, anyhow! Still, I’d like to 
know what that man was doing here.” 


CHAPTER VI. 

CAPTAIN QUINN’S MONKEY. 

Fred's parents were regular church attend- 
ants, and Fred himself rarely failed to appear 
with them at morning service on the Sabbath 
day. It must be regretfully confessed that 
church had little attraction for many of the 
youths of Oakdale, and among those who seldom 
sat through a sermon was Roy Hooker. 

Roy, however, was waiting on the sidewalk in 
front of the church when Fred came out. It was 
a mild, sunny day, and the outside world looked 
most attractive. In response to a covert signal 
from Hooker, Sage joined him. 

‘'Come for a walk, old man," invited Roy. 
“Gee ! you must be dopey, sitting in that dark old 
church and listening to a dry sermon." 

“I did get a bit sleepy," Fred confessed. 
“You're not going to walk far, are you?" 

68 


CAPTAIN QUINN^S MONKEY 69 

''Oh, you can suit yourself about that. What 
time do you have dinner 

"Around two o’clock.'' 

"That will give us a couple of hours. It's 
mighty pokey loafing around all day Sunday, 
with nothing for amusement. If you'd only go 
gunning " 

"Not on the Sabbath. Too many fellows do 
that around here." 

Fred's parents had lingered to exchange a few 
words with some friends, and as they finally 
came down the walk he told them he was going 
for a short stroll with Roy. 

"Be home to dinner, surely," urged his mother. 

He promised, and set off with Hooker, turning 
down the street. At the square, in the center 
of the village, they turned on to Lake Street and 
proceeded eastward, passing the new bank, a 
small, square building of brick and stone. 

"That makes a great improvement on this 
street," commented Fred. 

"Oh, yes," nodded Hooker ; "but it would have 
looked better had they been able to purchase that 


70 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

little old hut and the land belonging to Aaron 
Quinn. That shanty, squatting right there al- 
most under the rear eaves of the bank, is a regu- 
lar eyesore, but I understand old Quinn refused 
to sell at any price.’' 

The building in question was a tiny old house 
that stood some distance from the street, partly 
hidden by two large oak trees and a straggling 
growth of lilac bushes. It was sorely in need of 
repairs and paint, and some of the broken win- 
dows had been patched or stuffed with rags. 

Aaron Quinn, the owner of this disreputable 
little shanty, was a surly, blustering old sea cap- 
tain, who had given up his calling on account of 
age and rheumatism and returned to spend the 
latter days of his life at his birthplace in Oak- 
dale. His irascible temper and general crabbed- 
ness made him more or less unpopular among 
the villagers, and especially so with the boys of 
the town, who seldom lost an opportunity to jibe 
or annoy him. 

As the two friends were passing beneath the 
spreading limbs of one of the oaks, something 


CAPTAIN QUINN’S MONKEY 71 

struck Roy on the shoulder and bounded to the 
sidewalk. It was an acorn, and Hooker might 
have thought that it had fallen in a natural man- 
ner from the tree had it not been followed al- 
most immediately by another, which clipped the 
edge of his cap-visor. 

''Hey!’’ he exclaimed, looking up. "Who’s 
throwing them? Oh, I see; it’s that confounded 
monkey.” 

Grinning down at the boys from one of the 
branches, a large monkey let fly another acorn 
with surprising accuracy. The creature belonged 
to the old sea captain, being, apparently, Quinn’s 
only congenial companion; and, like his master, 
the monkey had learned to detest the village lads. 

"Ah! ha! Mr. Jocko,” cried Hooker, as he 
quickly stepped off the sidewalk and found a 
stone. "Two can play at that game.” 

"Don’t,” said Fred. 

But before he could interfere Roy had sent the 
stone whistling and clipping through the 
branches of the tree, causing Jocko to utter a 


72 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 

chattering scream of mingled dismay and defi- 
ance as he quickly mounted higher. 

In a moment there came a roar from the hut 
beyond the lilac bushes, and forth from the door, 
which had been standing ajar, issued Aaron 
Quinn with his stout cane. At one time, al- 
though rather short of stature, he had been a 
sturdy, husky man, who commanded the respect, 
if not the liking, of his sailors. Now the bushy 
fringe of whiskers beneath his chin seemed to 
bristle, his lips were drawn back from his teeth, 
and his eyes glared with rage. 

''You young lubber !’’ he shouted, as he came 
hobbling down the path, flourishing the cane, 
"ril teach ye ! I’ll larn ye to stone my monkey ! 
If I ketch ye. Til break your back!” 

With a mocking shout of laughter and a taunt. 
Hooker took to his heels. 

"Run, Fred!” he cried. "The old gink will 
swat you if you don’t!” 

But Sage did not run. Instead, he remained 
calmly facing the wrathy old sailor, who seemed 
bent on using the stout cane over the boy’s head. 


CAPTAIN QUINN'S MONKEY 73 

''Why don’t you skedaddle?” snarled Captain 
Quinn. "Ain’t you got sense enough to run?” 

"I didn’t do anything, and I sha’n’t run,” was 
the quiet retort. "I don’t believe you’ll hit me.” 

The man paused with the cane uplifted, sur- 
prise written on his face. 

"Oh, it’s you, is it?” he said in a milder tone. 
"You’re about the only brat around here who 
hasn’t tried his tricks on me. You seem to be 
different from the rest of these unmanly cubs. 
No, I won’t crack ye, but if ever I get my hands 
on that other rascal, he’ll have to take to his bed.” 

"Aw, you couldn’t catch a snail,” taunted 
Hooker. "Somebody will shoot that monkey of 
yours some day.” 

"If anybody hurts him, they’ll sartain wish 
they hadn’t,” retorted Quinn. "He knows more 
than half the people in this town, and that ain’t 
giving him a great deal of credit. Here, Jocko 
— here, come down.” 

Chattering a little, the monkey slowly swung 
himself down to the lower limbs and dropped to 
his master’s shoulder, where he perched in evi- 


74 


THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


dent assurance of security, making faces at the 
boys. 

Fred laughed and rejoined Hooker, while, as- 
sisted by his cane, Aaron Quinn hobbled back 
toward the hut, carrying the monkey. 

“It would be a good thing if that old pirate 
would get out of town,’’ said Roy. “He’s no ben- 
efit to the place.” 

“He’s harmless enough if people will let him 
alone,” retorted Fred; “but he’s been pestered 
so much that he seems to have it in for every- 
body. At the most, it’s doubtful if he lives many 
years, and when he dies the bank people will 
doubtless get his little place for what it’s really 
worth.” 

They proceeded on their way, the conversation 
soon drifting into other channels, football for a 
time being the main topic, as, to Sage’s surprise. 
Hooker betrayed considerable interest in the 
game. 

“You’re right about old Stoney,” he said. “He 
knows the new rules. Why, he must have 
studied them until he has every word by heart. 



AARON QUINN HOBBLED BACK TOWARD THE HUT, CARRYING 

THE MONKEY. 

—Page 74. 




CAPTAIN QUINN’S MONKEY 75 

Perhaps he’ll make a fairly good captain, after 
all, though he never can come up to Roger Eliot.” 

''Perhaps not,” admitted Sage. "Eliot cer- 
tainly was a natural leader at anything he under- 
took. I’m glad you came out yesterday.” 

"Oh, it isn’t likely I’ll get a chance to play.” 

"I’ll guarantee you will if you pitch in. Why, 
there’s Piper, the last fellow one would ever sup- 
pose could make good at the game.” 

"That’s right,” agreed Roy. "Say, he came 
round and interviewed me last night. He’s got 
another bug in his bonnet. Asked me all sorts 
of questions about the strange man I saw in the 
woods. What do you suppose he thinks he’s up 
to?” 

"He’s struck a trail,” laughed Fred. "He was 
up at my house to see me, too.” 

"Well, it would give me some satisfaction if 
he could find out who the man was. Don’t sup- 
pose you were able to enlighten him any?” 

"Not a bit. I told you yesterday that I hadn’t 
the remotest idea who the stranger could be.” 


76 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

‘T know you did, but I thought you might have 
placed him since/’ 

Down the river on the road to Clearport they 
entered a grove and sat chatting for some time 
on a fallen tree. Roy was anxious for another 
gunning expedition, but Fred feared that school 
work and football practice would give him little 
time for it. Finally they returned to the village, 
and Roy walked up Main Street to accompany 
his friend part of the way toward home. 

On the sidewalk in front of Urian Eliot’s 
house they saw Mr. Eliot talking with Lucius 
Timmick, the cashier of the bank. Timmick was 
a man under thirty years of age, thin, smooth- 
faced, save for some high cut '‘siders,” and a 
trifle sanctimonious in his manner. He was 
dressed wholly in black and carried a Bible in 
his hand. 

Mr. Eliot spoke pleasantly to the boys as they 
passed, and Timmick gave them a grudging nod. 

“That dried-up shrimp makes me tired,” mut- 
tered Hooker. '']nst because Urian Eliot took 
him into the bank and made him cashier, he 


CAPTAIN QUINN’S MONKEY 77 

thinks he’s something. I know him; he always 
was a sneak. Why, he used to watch the boys 
nights and blow on them every time they had a 
little fun. He caught us hooking apples once, 
and made an awful fuss about it. Talked of 
having some of us sent to the reform school. 
Now he teaches a class in Sabbath School, and 
butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.” 

‘Tt is evident,” smiled Fred, 'That you don’t 
love Mr. Timmick much.” 

"You wouldn’t think much of him either, if 
you’d lived long in Oakdale. He has too much 
dignity now to sneak round nights trying to find 
out what the fellows are doing, but he’s just as 
much a fox as he ever was. If I was president 
of a bank. I’d never trust him to handle the 
cash.” 

"Evidently Mr. Eliot trusts him thoroughly.” 

"Oh, yes, he’s got Urian Eliot fooled. Well, 
guess I’ll hike for home, as Rod Grant would say. 
Bye, bye, old man.” 

Thus far Fred had found no good opportunity 
to tell his father privately about the mysterious 


78 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

stranger and about what he had seen from his 
window the night before, nor did he find such a 
chance that day. The following morning he 
dismissed the matter from his mind, fancy- 
ing it improbable that the man would again be 
seen around Oakdale. 


CHAPTER VIL 


ANNOYING ATTi:nTIONS. 

Sleuth Piper seemed to develop a sudden re- 
markable fondness for Fred Sage, upon whom 
he persisted in thrusting himself whenever pos- 
sible, although he endeavored to make his ac- 
tions seem natural and unpremeditated. At the 
academy he hung around a great deal in Fred's 
vicinity, usually near enough to hear and under- 
stand anything Sage might say. Time after 
time he engaged Fred in conversation, which he 
usually brought about by speaking of school mat- 
ters or sports in which the most of the boys were 
interested. 

Monday morning, as he was making his way 
to the academy, Fred had been a bit surprised to 
encounter Sleuth in the vicinity of the Methodist 
church, for Piper, if also bound for school, had 
come a considerable distance out of his way. 


79 


80 THE GREAl OAKDALE MYSTERY 

This action seemed to be explained, however, 
when the queer fellow betrayed a certain amount 
of anxiety lest Sage had broken his promise to 
maintain secrecy regarding the Saturday night 
interview at Fred’s house. 

“What do you take me for. Piper ?” exclaimed 
Fred, annoyed. “When I get ready to tell about 
that, ril let you know in advance.” 

“No offence, old fellow,” said Sleuth hastily. 
“You understand anyone can let such things leak 
unintentionally.” 

That night, after the shower in the gym fol- 
lowing practice on the field. Sleuth was waiting 
to join Fred and persisted in walking all the way 
home with him, maintaining a confidential at- 
mosphere, which seemed to invite confidence and 
trust on the part of the other. This effort was 
so palpably apparent that, although inwardly an- 
noyed, Sage could not help laughing over it when 
Sleuth finally set off for his own home. 

“The chump!” he muttered. “He thinks he’s 
clever, but it’s easy enough to see through him.” 

But when, on the following morning. Sleuth 


ANNOYING ATTENTIONS 


81 


again joined Fred on the way to school, Sage 
could scarcely restrain his annoyance. Succeed- 
ing, however, he tried the effect of joshing and 
banter. 

‘'Say, Sleuth,’’ he laughed, “you’ve certainly 
taken a sudden pronounced liking for my society. 
I never dreamed you entertained such deep affec- 
tion for me.” 

“Oh,” returned Piper, with pretended care- 
lessness, “I’ve always liked you, Fred, ever since 
you came here from — from — Let me see, where 
did you come from? I’ve forgotten.” 

“Perhaps you never knew.” 

“That’s right, perhaps I didn’t. Seems to me, 
though. I’ve heard it was somewhere in New 
York State. Is that right?” 

“Let it go at that; it’s near enough.!’ 

“Oh, if there’s any reason why you don’t care 
to tell, of course you’ve a right to decline to an- 
swer.” 

“Do you know. Sleuth, I always feel a natural 
disinclination to gratify the unwarranted curios- 


82 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 
ity of people who try to pry into affairs that are 
of no concern to them/’ 

“Oh, piffle, Fred! Fm not prying. What’s the 
matter with you? I was just thinking that prob- 
ably before coming here you attended a school 
of more importance than Oakdale Academy. 
You knew as much about football as any fellow 
in this town when you appeared here, and that’s 
how you happened to get on the team as quar- 
terback last year. Eliot said you were the fel- 
low best adapted for the position, and you proved 
that he was right by the way you filled it.” 

“Thanks for the taffy. Your generosity in 
handing it out has got me going. What do you 
want to know next? Ask and ye shall not re- 
ceive. Rubber and you’ll get it in the neck.” 

“Oh, all right, if you’re going to take it that 
way,” muttered Piper sourly. “Still, I don’t see 
why you should be so thundering suspicious. 

That is, I don’t see unless ” 

“Unless I’ve some dark and terrible secret to 
conceal. You’re still making a jack of yourself 
trying to connect the Sages with your desperate 


ANNOYING ATTENTIONS 83 

jailbird, Gentleman Jim. It doesn’t seem to me, 
my astute detective friend, that you’re making 
much progress on your latest case. Apparently 
that reward is keeping well beyond the reach of 
your grasping fingers.” 

^‘Even Sherlock Holmes required a certain 
amount of time to solve his problems,” reminded 
Piper, causing his companion to laugh loudly. 

‘‘As an imitator of the great Sherlock, you’re 
a merry jest. Pipe. Go ahead and amuse your- 
self playing your little farce, but don’t bother 
me.” 

It was difficult, however, to escape Piper, who 
again persisted in hovering about in Fred’s vi- 
cinity throughout the day. 

That night, shortly after four o’clock, Mrs. 
Sage, at work in her kitchen, was surprised and 
a little startled when Billy Piper came v^alking in 
through the door, which chanced to be standing 
open, as the day had been unusually warm for 
the season. 

“Good evening,” said the boy. “I just ran up 
to see Fred a minute. Is he around?” 


84 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

"'No, indeed,’’ was the answer. "He never 
gets home now until after dark. Football prac- 
tice keeps him. Don’t you play on the team ?” 

"Oh, yes,” answered Pipe easily; "but I don’t 
have to practice all the time. You see. I’m pretty 
well up on the game. If you don’t mind. I’ll wait 
for Fred.” 

"Of course I don’t mind, though it’s likely he’ll 
not be home for more than an hour.” 

"Oh, well. I’ll just make myself comfortable 
till he comes. Thought perhaps he might have 
a book for me to read. I’m a great reader.” 

"There are some magazines on the sitting- 
room table.” 

"Thanks,” said Sleuth, entering the room in- 
dicated. "I reckon they will do first-rate. Don’t 
mind about me, Mrs. Sage. Here’s a nice, com- 
fortable chair, and I’ll be all right.” 

Although she wondered that he should have 
come there expecting to find Fred at that time, 
Mrs. Sage attributed it to the boy’s eccentricity, 
though occasionally she glanced into the sitting- 
room when passing the open door. Sleuth 


ANNOYING ATTENTIONS 85 

seemed to be interested for a time in the maga- 
zines, but presently she discovered him gazing 
around the room, although he remained seated 
near the table. A few moments later she saw 
his face brighten up as his eyes discovered an 
old-fashioned family photograph album within 
reach of his hand. In a moment he was looking 
through the album, apparently deeply engrossed 
in the pictures it contained, and for some time he 
remained thus occupied. Mrs. Sage had almost 
forgotten the visitor when he reappeared in the 
kitchen. 

‘T don't believe I'll wait for Fred after all," 
said Sleuth. “I think I'll go home. Tell him 
when he comes that I was looking for a good 
book, but I don't believe he has anything of the 
kind that would suit me." 

It was verging on twilight when Sleuth de- 
parted, and something like half an hour later 
Fred reached home. On being told by his mother 
of Piper's visit, the boy betrayed some surprise 
and a singular amount of annoyance. 

'‘Confound that fellow!" he exclaimed. 'T'd 


86 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 

like to know what he means. Did he try to pump 
you, mother T' 

'Tump me? Why, no, I don’t think ” 

"Didn’t ask you a whole lot of foolish ques- 
tions, did he?” 

"I don’t think he asked me any questions at 
all.” 

"Well, what did he do while he was here?” 

"Entertained himself by looking at some mag- 
azines in the sitting-room.” 

"He didn’t go prowling around over the 
house ?” 

"He went no further than that room.” 

"Still, he had no business around here.” 

"He said that he came for a book. He wanted 
something to read.” 

"Bluff. He knows the stories I read wouldn’t 
interest him at all. Furthermore, he knew when 
he came that I wasn’t here. He got excused 
from practice to-night by saying that he had a 
cracking headache and felt ill.” 

"He didn’t mention anything of the sort to 
me, and I’m sure he did not appear ill. I’m 


ANNOYING ATTENTIONS 


87 


afraid there’s something wrong with that boy, 
Fred. You admitted yourself that some people 
thought him queer.” 

‘TTl queer him, if he doesn’t behave,” mut- 
tered Fred. 

On Wednesday morning Piper was not wait- 
ing for Sage on the way to school, but Fred 
found him with some other fellows at the aca- 
demy. Straightway Sleuth was called aside by 
the vexed youth. 

''Look here. Piper,” said Fred grimly, "I want 
to know why you showed up at my house last 
night and asked for me, when you knew I was at 
practice on the field?” 

"Why, didn’t your mother tell you I wanted to 
borrow a book?” asked Sleuth innocently. 

"Now don’t try any of that on me,” advised 
the other boy. "You knew I wouldn’t have any- 
thing you’d care to read. Besides that, you pre- 
tended that you expected to find me home.” 

"Who said so?” 

"My mother.” 


"Oh, she misunderstood me.” 


88 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 

''But / don't misunderstand you, and I'll tell 
you now to keep away from me and my home in 
future. I mean it, too. This business of playing 
the detective may be amusing and interesting to 
you, but it's infernally annoying to anyone you 
happen to pester. I've had enough of it, and I 
won't stand any more. Get that?" 

"Of course I get it," replied Sleuth sulkily. 
"I'm no fool." 

"Then don't act like one. That's all I have to 
say." With which Fred turned sharply and 
walked away. 

"Those who have guilty secrets," muttered 
Piper to himself, "are always annoyed by too 
much attention." 


CHAPTER VIII. 


HOOKKR HAS A PI,AN. 

On Thursday afternoon the Oakdale football 
team put in the last strenuous practice before the 
first real game of the season, which was to be 
played Saturday on the home grounds, the con- 
testing eleven coming from Barville. As far as 
possible Captain Stone had drilled a knowledge 
of the new rules into the heads of his followers, 
and although, like a good captain, he was not 
wholly satisfied either with their advancement or 
his own, he decided that stiff, strenuous prac- 
tice work on Friday would not be advisable, con- 
sidering the possibility that someone might get 
hurt, with insufficient time to recover before the 
Barville contest. Therefore he simply notified 
his teammates to come out Friday for a little 
brushing up in signals. 

Encouraged by Sage, Hooker had practiced 
89 


90 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 

faithfully, and had made a fairly good showing 
in the line of the scrub team when it played short 
periods against the regulars. Fortunately, Roy’s 
''condition” had been excellent when he began 
this, and therefore, save for a few minor bruises 
and sprains, which caused temporary soreness or 
lameness, he escaped injury. He was feeling 
somewhat elated over this when he left the gym- 
nasium in company with Fred. 

"It doesn’t seem to be such a tough old game, 
after all,” said Roy. "Of course a fellow gets 
pounded around a lot, but it doesn’t hurt him 
much if he’s good and hard.” 

"That’s the point generally overlooked by peo- 
ple who put up a holler against the game,” said 
Fred. "Football isn’t for babies and weaklings, 
and the fellow who goes into it should be in per- 
fect health and hardened by training that will en- 
able him to stand up under pounding and jolts 
which would put a feeble chap all to the bad in 
no time at all. Observe how quickly fellows in 
fine condition recover from injuries on the field 
which would seem sufficient to put them under 


HOOKER HAS A PLAN 


91 


the doctor's care for weeks or months. When 
some foolish chap who is soft as mush or has 
some chronic weakness attempts to get into the 
game, notice how often it happens that he's the 
one seriously injured; and of course this gives 
people who do not understand the circumstances 
and who are opposed to the game a chance to 
raise a great to-do." 

folks have never wanted me to play." 

^'Well, mine are not enthusiastically in favor 
of my playing, although my mother is the chief 
objector. But she's always worrying about me 
of late, no matter what I do. It has been that 
way ever since " He checked himself sud- 

denly. 

‘‘Ever since what?" asked Roy. 

“Oh," answered Fred evasively, “ever since I 
got old enough to go in for such things. She 
doesn't like to have me go gunning, and she ac- 
tually cried when father bought me my gun." 

“Oh, say," exclaimed Hooker quickly, “that 
makes me think of something. Why can't we 
get in a little shooting Saturday morning? There 


92 THE GKEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 

ought to be ducks over in Marsh Pond, and we 
could try ’em Saturday, and arrange to get home 
by the middle of the forenoon — by half past ten 
or eleven, at the latest. That would give us 
plenty of time to rest up before the game.” 

“But Marsh Pond is nearly five miles from 
here, and, in order to get there early enough to 
pick up any ducks in the morning, we’d have to 
turn out in the middle of the night and make a 
stiflf tramp of it. Pm afraid that would be a lit- 
tle too much. Hooker.” 

“Now listen to me; I have a plan. I’m not in 
favor of rising at two or three o’clock and hoof- 
ing it all that distance for half an hour’s shoot- 
ing after daybreak. You’re as wise to the sig- 
nals as any fellow on the team, aren’t you?” 

“I think so,” nodded Fred modestly. 

“Think so! Why, you’ve got them down pat. 
You can reel ’em off like hot shot, and you know 
every time just what you’re firing at. A little 
signal practice to-morrow wouldn’t do you any 
good, and, as I’m only a scrub man, it isn’t worth 
my while bothering. I know where we can get a 


HOOKEE HAS A PLAN 


93 


good set of decoys to use on that duck hunt, and 
if you’ll go ril agree to get ’em. We can start 
right after school to-morrow, and I’ll bet I can 
hire Abe Hubbard to take us over to the pond 
with his old horse and wagon. It won’t cost a 
great deal, for Hubbard isn’t doing much of 
anything, and he’d be glad to pick up a dollar. 
It wouldn’t surprise me if the sight of a whole 
dollar would hire him to tote us over there and 
come for us any time we might set on Saturday. 
If I can fix it,’^ he concluded eagerly, ‘'will you 
go?” 

They had paused in front of the post-office, and 
Fred meditated a moment over the proposal. 
They were standing there as Sleuth Piper came 
up, passed them and entered the building, turning 
to cast a swift glance in their direction. 

“It listens good. Hooker,” said Fred, tempted; 
“but where are we going to stay all night? Have 
you thought of that?” 

“You bet I have. Why, don’t you remember 
there’s an old camp over there, which nobody 
ever uses nowadays? It has a stone fireplace. 


94 THE GREAT OAKDALE MA'STERY 

and if we take an axe along to cut wood we can 
be as comfortable as you please/’ 

It was not remarkable that the temptation 
grew, for what real boy would not be lured by 
the prospect of a night in an old camp in the 
woods ? 

“It listens good,” repeated Fred, smiling a bit; 
“but how about a boat ? Without a dog to do our 
retrieving, if we shoot anything we’ll certainly 
need a boat. Spot is no water dog, and he’d be 
practically useless for us.” 

“There isn’t any boat,” admitted Roy; “but I 
know where there’s an old raft on the shore with- 
in twenty rods of the shooting blind some hunters 
made last fall. I know the raft ought to be 
there, for I used it when I was over there fishing 
once this summer. I saw the blind and inspected 
it, too, and it will be all right for us without do- 
ing a thing to it. It’s close by the feeding 
grounds at the western end of the lake and will 
serve us much better than a new one, as the 
ducks are thoroughly accustomed to the sight 
of it by this time. You know how they shy some- 


HOOKER HAS A FLAK 95 

times at a newly built blind theyVe never seen 
before. With that raft near by for our use, we 
can pick up any ducks we knock down. Come on, 
Fred, of course you’ll go.” 

‘Til speak to Stone about it in the morning.” 

“That would be rather late, for you know Fve 
got to see Hubbard and fix it with him. Why 
not see Stone to-night? Give him a good game 
of talk. Tell him you feel the need of something 
like this to brace you up. Hard study, regular 
practice, monotony, anxiety about the game — 
you know the sort of argument to put up. He’ll 
be a chump if he refuses. Why, if I was on the 
team I’d simply see him and tell him I was going 
to go anyhow.” 

“And you’d put yourself in bad with old 
Stoney. He’s an easy-going fellow in some 
things, but when it comes to football matters he 
believes in discipline and enforces it, too.” 

“Yes,” nodded Roy, “he’s a little too stiff to 
suit me; something of a tyrant, it seems.” 

“Not a tyrant; simply a captain who knows 
what is right and demands it of his followers. 


96 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

If Stone says he doesn’t think I should go, of 
course I won’t, that’s all.” 

“But you will if he’ll agree?” cried Hooker 
exultantly. “Say, old man, leave it to me; let 
me talk to Ben. I’ll tell him you want to go, but 
don’t like to ask the privilege.” 

“And that would be the truth.” 

“Sure. No need to lie about it. Think per- 
haps he can put a substitute in your place, same 
as he would have to do if you were hurt in a 
game, and that will be a good thing, as it will 
brace the sub up on signaling. Will you leave it 
to me, old chap?” 

After a little hesitation, Sage agreed. “Go 
ahead; have your own way about it. If Ben says 
it’s all right. I’ll go ducking with you.” 

“I’ll let you know this very evening,” promised 
Hooker, as his friend started up the street to- 
ward home. 

Sage did not see Piper come quickly out of the 
post-office and hasten after Roy. Having ob- 
served the two boys in earnest consultation. 
Sleuth’s curiosity was at white heat. 


HOOKER HAS A PLAN 


97 


Near eight o'clock that evening Hooker came 
to see Fred at the latter's home. 

'Ht's all right," he announced in enthusiastic 
triumph. brought Stone round nicely, and he 
says you may go. I've seen Hubbard, too, and 
fixed it up with him. He'll be ready to start 
right after school to-morrow, and he'll come for 
us at half past nine Saturday morning." 

Fred's mother was listening with sudden in- 
terest. ‘What are you planning, boys?" she 
asked. 

Fred explained, observing that her face took 
on a shade of anxiety. 

“Now don't begin to worry, mother," he 
begged. “You know Roy and I are both care- 
ful with guns, and there isn't a bit of danger. 
I don't want to fret you, but I hope you won’t 
object." 

She sighed a little. “I suppose it's foolish, 
but I can't help feeling anxious about you when 
you go gunning. However, your father bought 
you the gun, and, now that you have it, it 
wouldn't seem reasonable for me to seek to pre- 


98 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 

vent you from getting some pleasure through the 
use of it/’ 

‘'All boys love a gun,” smiled Andrew Sage, 
“and the right sort of a boy rarely gets hurt with 
one.” 

“Then it’s all fixed,” laughed Roy. “Get every- 
thing ready to start right away after school, 
Fred. Take along a blanket, for you’ll need it 
in the old camp. If we have any luck at all, we 
ought to bring home some ducks.” 

Roy had been gone some time when Fred’s 
mother came up quietly behind his chair, bent 
over him and put her arms about his neck. 

“Don’t think me foolish, my dear,” she said 
in a low tone. “You understand why I can’t 
help worrying. You’re the only boy I have left, 
now.” 


CHAPTER IX. 


CAMP IN THE) WOODS. 

Something over four miles from Oakdale Abel 
Hubbard reined his horse into an old road which 
led from the main highway into the depths of the 
woods. Fred and Roy, with their outfits, were 
in the wagon, and, the time being short ere dark- 
ness must come on, they urged Hubbard to make 
haste. 

''Can’t hit any high places along this old 
road,” answered the fat little village constable. 
"If I tried it, Fd bounce ye both out in no time. 
’Tain’t fur to the pond now, so what’s the use to 
be in such an all-fired rush? All I want to do 
is git back on to the main road before it sets in 
dark.” 

"But we’ve got some things to do ourselves,” 
said Roy. "We’ve got to find the old raft and 
have it ready for use in the morning, besides cut- 
99 


100 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

ting firewood and getting settled down for the 
night/^ 

“That hadn’t orter take ye long. I’ll git ye 
there as soon’s I can. It’s sort of an accommo- 
dation, anyhow. I wouldn’t think of making 
both trips for anybody else unless they paid me 
twice as much.” 

“You’re not very busy these days, are you, Mr. 
Hubbard?” asked Fred, smiling a little. “It 
seems to me an easy way for you to pick up a dol- 
lar.” 

“Oh, I could be busy,” returned the man, “if 
I wanted to work for Lem Hayden in his quarry 
or kilns, and I guess I could find a job in the 
mills; but, as a regular commissioned officer, it’s 
my duty to be unhampered and ready for any- 
thing that may turn up. If I was workin’ and 
Sheriff Pickle happened to need me. I’d have to 
knock off.” 

Real work had never seemed to have much 
fascination for Abel Hubbard. 

“Then there are plenty of jobs a man might 
get around Oakdale,” said Roy. “If a stranger 


THE CAMP m THE WOODS 101 

should show up with references, he could find 
something to do, couldn’t he?” 

''Reckon he could, such as it was. I don’t 
cal’late them Dagoes in the quarries bring many 
references.” 

"You haven’t seen any stranger around town 
recently looking for work, have you ?” 

"No, don’t think I have.” 

"I didn’t know,” said Roy. "Last Saturday, 
while gunning with Fred, I met a man who said 
he was in search of a job, and he asked me about 
the chances in town. I haven’t seen anything of 
him since.” 

"I generally take special notice of everybody 
that comes inter Oakdale,” asserted Constable 
Hubbard. "I cal’late it’s good policy to do so. 
Ain’t nobody new showed up lately, so I guess 
your man didn’t stop around here.” 

"I don’t believe he did,” said Roy. 

Presently they reached the old camp, from 
which, through the trees, they could get a 
glimpse of the pond. It did not take them long 
to jump out and unload their belongings, which 


102 THE GKEAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

were carried into the camp, the door being fas- 
tened merely by a wooden peg thrust through a 
staple. Hubbard backed his wagon round, bade 
them good luck and drove off into the shadows 
which were gathering in the woods. 

“Well, here we are, Roy,’’ said Fred. 

“Yes, and it’s up to us to hustle. Let’s look 
for that raft while it’s light enough to find it. 
We can get together firewood later. Come on.” 

Leaving their property in the camp, they hur- 
ried to the pond, and Hooker led the way along 
the marshy shore. The water-grass and rushes 
stood thick and rank at this end of the lake, and 
soon Hooker pointed out a mass of dead brush 
in the midst of the reeds some distance from the 
marshy shore. 

“There’s the old blind,” he said. “You can 
see it is located so it commands the cove beyond, 
and that’s where the ducks coming in to feed 
usually ’light.” 

“How does a fellow get out to the blind?” 

“Wade. The water won’t come up to your 
knees. There’s a sort of little knoll or island out 


THE CAMP Ilsr THE WOODS 103 

there, and the brush has been built up and woven 
into the branches of an old fallen tree that may 
have grown on that knoll before the water was 
so high. It's a fine chance all right. But come 
on, we must dig that raft out." 

They went forward again, and suddenly, with 
a splash and a sound of throbbing wings, a small 
duck rose amid the rushes and went flying away 
over the bosom of the lake. 

‘‘Hang it all!" exclaimed Roy in vexation. 
“Just look at that! If we’d brought our guns, 
we might have knocked her down. That’s a 
young duck, or it would have flown before we 
got anywhere near. Young ones always hide if 
they can, until they get thoroughly used to the 
idea that their wings will serve them better. 
We’ll get some shooting here in the morning, 
mark what I say." 

The raft was found where Hooker expected to 
find it. It was a small affair and would support 
only one of the boys, but would be sufficient for 
their use in picking up such ducks as they might 
shoot. With the raft there was a long pole and 


104 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

a piece of board that had been roughly hewn into 
the shape of a paddle. 

When the raft was floated Roy got on it and 
poled it around into the little cove near the blind, 
where he succeeded in concealing it quite effec- 
tively amid the grass and reeds. Then he waded 
ashore in his water-tight boots without sinking 
nearly as much as he had thought he would. 

“ThaDs done,’^ he said. ^^Now wefll get back 
to the camp and chop our firewood while we can 
see to do it. There are no signs to indicate that 
anyone has shot from the blind this fall, and 
therefore the ducks ought to come up to it with- 
out fear.’" 

Soon the strokes of an axe were ringing 
through the gloomy woods as Sage worked at 
the trunk of a dry fallen tree. Hooker carried 
the wood into the camp and piled it beside the 
old stone fireplace. Sunset’s faint afterglow 
faded from the sky, and with gathering dark- 
ness the atmosphere took on a sharp, nipping 
chill, which, however, was little felt by the active 
boys. Sage continued chopping, while Hooker 


THE CAMP IN THE WOODS 105 

found time between armfuls to build a fire. 
Through the open door of the camp Fred saw the 
welcoming glow of the flames, and it gave him 
a feeling of buoyancy, of keen relish, of intense 
satisfaction in life and the pleasures thereof. It 
was good to be there with his chum in those 
dark and silent autumn woods, making ready to 
spend the night together in that old camp before 
the duck hunt that was to come in the crispness 
of gray dawn. 

Hooker’s figure was silhouetted in the open 
doorway. 

say, old man,” he called, as he came out, 
‘'there has been somebody in this camp lately.” 

"That so? I thought you said you were sure 
no one had used the shooting blind.” 

"I am; I’ll bet on it. I looked to see, and I 
could tell that no one had been there. They 
would have left tracks and marks and probably 
empty shells. Whoever it was that stopped in 
the camp, they did not try any shooting from the 
blind. And say. I’ll bet somebody was in that 
camp last night. I thought I caught a smell of 


106 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 


tobacco smoke when we first opened the door, 
but it was so dusky inside that I didn’t notice 
anything* else. There’s fresh-cut boughs in the 
bunk, and the ashes in the fireplace were hardly 
cold. I found crumbs on the floor, too, and part 
of a newspaper not quite two weeks old.” 

'‘Then I reckon you’re right,” agreed Sage, 
"though I don’t quite see why anyone should stop 
in the old camp this time of year, unless he came 
here to shoot ducks. We’d have been in a scrape 
if we’d found someone here ahead of us to- 
night.’’ 

They bore the last of the wood inside and 
threw it down on a heaping pile beside the now 
merrily blazing fire, which illumined the entire 
interior of the camp. Hooker had thoughtfully 
brought a can of water from a near-by spring, 
and, thus prepared, they were ready to settle 
down to the supper of sandwiches and doughnuts 
put up for them by their mothers. 

Roy closed and fastened the door with the in- 
side hasp. 

"You can see,” he said, with a gesture toward 


THE CAMP IN THE WOODS 107 

the old bunk at one side of the room, ‘Hhose 
boughs on top are fresh cut/’ 

''That’s right,” nodded Sage, after examining 

them. "Hacked off with a jackknife, I should 
say, and not two days old. Well, somebody was 
kind enough to help make us comfortable, for, 
with our blankets and a fire going, we ought to 
find that bunk all right to-night. I’m really 
much obliged to the unknown person or persons. 
I presume there may have been more than one.” 

"Here’s that part of a newspaper,” said Roy, 
taking it from the small rough table that had 
been nailed against the wall opposite the bunk. 
"The date on it is enough to show that someone 
has been here lately.” 

Fred took the paper and glanced at it care- 
lessly. In a moment, however, a queer expres- 
sion flashed across his face, his eyes opened wide, 
his lips puckered, and he gave a long, low whistle. 
"What is it?” questioned the boy. 

"By Jove !” muttered Sage wonderingly. And 

then, after a moment of silence, he repeated with 
greater emphasis: "By Jove!” 


108 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 
'What is it?’’ exclaimed Hooker. 

"This paper,” answered Fred, staring at some 
headlines in bold-faced type. "It’s either a part 
of the same one or a duplicate of an issue I saw 
in the possession of Billy Piper last Saturday 
night.” 


CHAPTER X. 


A p^rpi,e:xing question. 

The black headlines which had attracted 
Fred’s eye told of the five hundred dollar reward 
offered for the capture of Jim Wilson, who had 
escaped from the Harpersville jail after a mur- 
derous assault on the guard. The manner in 
which the paper had been folded indicated that 
this sensational article had been left outermost, 
and the blurred ink and wear in the creases of 
the folds bespoke the fact that the paper had 
been carried around in someone’s pocket. 

‘Tiper?” muttered Hooker. ''Why, it isn’t 
likely that he has. been here.” 

"It doesn’t seem at all likely,” agreed Sage; 
"but still ” 

"What was he doing with the paper, any- 
how ?” 

Fred turned sidewise, so that the bright light 
109 


110 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

from the open fire fell full on the page, and his 
finger indicated the news article which had held 
such deep interest for Sleuth. 

‘^See that?’’ 

^‘Yes,” said Roy, peering over his chum’s 
shoulder. ‘Five hundred dollars reward. Des- 
perate character breaks jail after murderous as- 
sault on keeper.’ Oh, yes, that’s the sort of 
stuff that would interest old Sleuthy.” 

“I’ve kept my promise to Piper to say nothing 
about his wild theory,” said Fred, “and, a full 
week having passed with no result, I don’t fancy 
it will do him any good for me to continue a 
clam. I was sure there was nothing in it, any- 
how. You see. Piper had a crazy notion that 
this escaped criminal and the stranger you talked 
with last Saturday might be identical. It’s 
rather odd that the printed description of James 
Wilson, as given here, corresponds with your de- 
scription of the man who talked with you and ran 
away at my approach. Here it is.” 

His eyes puckered, his lips pursed a little. 
Hooker read the description of Gentleman Jim. 


A PERPLEXING QUESTION 111 

"'Why, that’s right,” he said slowly. "Tt does 
sort of fit, and no mistake. But Pipe didn’t say 
anything about this to me. You know I told you 
how he came round and asked me a lot of ques- 
tions, some of which I couldn’t answer, and the 
most of which seemed more or less foolish. He 
tried to find out everything I knew about you 
and your folks, seeming especially anxious to 
learn where you came from when you moved into 
Oakdale. Now what’s that got to do with this 
stuff in the newspaper?” 

Fred laughed shortly. "You see,” he ex- 
plained, with a touch of scorn, "Sleuth was try- 
ing to connect us somehow with the notorious 
and desperate Mr. Wilson.” 

"How could he do that?” 

"Have you forgotten that your stranger made 
inquiries concerning the Sages in Oakdale ? 
Now you tumble; you’re on. If that man was 
Wilson, he would not make such inquiries with- 
out some knowledge of us, and, if he knew us, 
it was natural to suppose that we knew him. I 


112 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

informed Piper that I had never heard of such 
a man/' 

“That should have ended it." 

“Not with Sleuth. Doubtless he reasoned that 
if we had ever known this criminal we would, 
most naturally, be sure to deny the fact." 

“But you never did know him ?" 

Sage shot his friend a quick, resentful glance. 
‘‘Do you think Fd lie, even to Piper?" 

“Of course not." 

“I never heard of this James Wilson, alias 
Gentleman Jim, until Sleuth told me about him. 
My denial, however, had little effect on Piper, 
who hinted at family skeletons hidden away in 
closets and then proceeded to watch me in true 
dime novel detective style. For a day or two I 
couldn't shake him; he hung around me all the 
time. At last I got tired of it and gave him to 
understand flatly that he'd better let up." 

“By Jingoes !" laughed Roy. “He was watch- 
ing you last night. After we fixed it up for this 
little expedition and you had started for home, 
Piper overtook me and casually did a little pump- 


A PEKPLEXING QUESTION 113 

ing. Reckon I was easy, for I told him all about 

it. Say, you don’t suppose ” Roy paused, 

as if wondering over an idea that had flashed 
into his mind. 

‘What?” 

“You don’t suppose he came here to this camp 
after that? Perhaps he dropped the paper him- 
self.” 

Following a moment’s thought. Sage shook his 
head. “It was after dark last night when he 
found out what we had arranged to do, Roy. 
Piper was at school to-day, and we left him start- 
ing out for practice with the rest of the team. 
While it’s not impossible, it’s most improbable 
that he visited this place after learning we were 
coming here, and got home in time to attend 
school. The signs of a recent fire in the fire- 
place and the fresh boughs on the bunk we may 
accept as positive assurance that someone spent 
last night here. Under any circumstances. Sleuth 
wouldn’t do that — alone.” 

“Never,” agreed Hooker, with conviction. 
“This piece of newspaper must have been left 


114 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 


here by someone else. It's a mere coincidence 
that it happens to be the same issue shown you 
by Piper, and it isn't worth bothering our brains 
over any further. I'm hungry. Let's eat." 

^'All right," agreed Fred, putting the news- 
paper into his pocket. 

Their lunch was opened up and placed on the 
table. Two old boxes served them as chairs. The 
warmth of the fire made the camp quite comfort- 
able, and its light was sufficient for their needs. 
Sitting there and chatting after the manner of 
bosom chums, they thoroughly enjoyed their sup- 
per. 

After supper there was much to talk over, 
things of mutual interest which kept them for 
a time wide awake and in excellent humor. As 
it was required, they placed fresh wood on the 
fire, reserving the heavier sticks for the long 
hours of the night, when they would need a 
slower blaze. 

The guns were looked over and fondled af- 
fectionately, while they discussed their hunting 
experiences, laughing with relish over blunders 


A PEEPLEXING QUESTION 115 

and failures which had seemed most annoying at 
the time of their occurrence. They examined 
the decoys Hooker had borrowed, making sure 
they were properly ‘‘strung’’ and ready for set- 
ting. Football and school affairs also furnished 
topics for chatting and laughter and the expres- 
sion of more or less dogmatic opinions. At times 
in the lulls of their talk they heard the night wind 
in the trees outside, and occasional puffs coming 
down the chimney blew a little smoke back into 
the camp, the odor of which did not, however, 
become strong enough to be offensive. 

Behind them the firelight flung their shadows, 
huge and wavering, against the camp wall, and, 
looking round once by chance. Sage was startled 
to observe those shadows hovering there like 
something silent and sinister and menacing. Al- 
though he did not refer again to the strange man 
Roy had encountered, he was wondering who 
that man could have been. 

“Whoo!” cried an owl from the blackness of 
the woods. 

Their chatter grew less ; at last it ceased. They 


116 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

sat silently gazing at the fire, with its bed of 
glowing coals. Hooker moved, stretched and 
yawned. 

‘Tt’s me for the sleeps,’’ he announced drows- 
ily, producing a dollar watch and beginning to 
wind it. ‘'We’ve got to be up and in that blind 
ready for business before peep o’ day, you know.” 

“I’m ready to turn in,” said Fred. 

“Fellow who sleeps on the front side of the 
bunk will have to replenish the fire once in a 
while. We can change round in the night and 
take turns at it. How are you about waking 
up?” 

“Pretty good. I’ll take my turn first.” 

Some heavy logs were placed on the fire, and 
Roy rolled himself into his blanket, an example 
which Sage soon followed. In a few moments 
Hooker was sound asleep, as his breathing indi- 
cated, but for a long time Fred lay thinking and 
wondering. He could not rid himself of the 
conviction that the discovery in that old camp of 
the newspaper containing the account of Gentle- 


A PEKPLEXING QUESTION 117 

man Jim’s jail-break bore a significance unex- 
plained and uncomprehended. If that paper had 
not been left there by Piper, who had left it? 
''Whoo!” again cried the owl. 


CHAPTER XI. 


th:^ hiddi:n sportsmen. 

Taking turns, the boys rose several times dur- 
ing the night and replenished the fire. At best, 
the bough bed was none too comfortable, but 
toward morning both lads slept soundly for some 
time. 

Awaking suddenly after this period of slum- 
ber, Sage lifted himself to his elbow and listened, 
impressed by the hazy conviction that he had 
been aroused by an unusual sound. The fire had 
sunk to a mass of coals and embers, from which 
emanated a faint glow that barely reached across 
the stone hearth of the fireplace. Beyond that 
dim gleam of light the interior of the camp was 
wrapped in dense darkness. The wind no longer 
roamed amid the treetops, and not even a breath 
came down the chimney to disturb the gray ashes 
in the fireplace. 


118 


THE HIDDEN SPOKTSMEN 119 

Fred’s heart thumped annoyingly, while his 
ears were reaching out for a repetition of the 
sound that had awakened him ; and, when he had 
begun to think it must have been a creation of 
his imagination or dreams, it came again. 

It was like footsteps — stealthy, cautious foot- 
steps, which, however, seemed to move a bit un- 
certainly in the darkness. It seemed like one or 
more persons walking in the woods a short dis- 
tance from the camp and occasionally stumbling 
a bit, although moving slowly and with consid- 
erable caution. The sounds were receding. 

'Tt must be some straying animal,” thought 
Fred. 

Fainter and fainter grew the sounds. Once or 
twice there came a cracking, as of dead branches 
beneath a heavy foot, and at last the listening 
lad heard something that sent a shock through 
him. It was like the suppressed murmur of hu- 
man voices, and was followed immediately by a 
low, soft, short whistle. 

Sage grasped Hooker and gave him a shake. 

''Hey? What is it?” mumbled Roy, awakened. 


120 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

^'Hush!” breathed Fred excitedly. ^^There’s 
someone prowling around this camp. Don’t make 
a noise. Listen.” 

Breathless, they listened for a full minute, but 
now the woods seemed silent and lifeless, and 
not a thing could they hear. 

''Guess you’re mistaken, Fred,” said Roy in a 
low tone. "You must have been dreaming.” 

"I wasn’t dreaming,” asserted Sage positively; 
"I never was more wide awake in all my life. 
Keep still a little longer.” 

For a long time they remained silent, gradu- 
ally growing tired and cramped by the rigid ten- 
sity of their bodies. 

"They’ve gone,” decided Sage at last. 

"They?” questioned Roy. "Was there more 
than one?” 

"Two, at least. I heard them talking.” 

"Oh, say, Fred, you must be mistaken. Who 
would come prowling around in these black 
woods at this hour?” 

"I haven’t an idea who it was, but I’ll stake 
my life on it that it was somebody. Nothing in 


THE HIDDEN SPORTSMEN 121 

the world could convince me that I was mis- 
taken/' 

“Oh, well, if you're so positive But it 

seems ridiculous, impossible, preposterous. It's 
pitch dark, and no one would be wandering 
through these woods under such circumstances." 

Fred threw off his blanket and got up. “I 
don't blame you for thinking so, and I would say 
the same if I had not heard them. What makes 
it all the more unaccountable is the fact that they 
were sneaking. They were using the utmost cau- 
tion in their movements, Hooker, and when a per- 
son sneaks he's up to something." 

“Perhaps," said Roy, with an attempt at persi- 
flage, “it was their design to murder and rob us 
for our vast wealth." 

“Whatever their design may have been," said 
Sage, putting some small dry wood on the coals 
of the fire, “it was not honest and open. People 
do not creep around through the night like cut- 
throats unless they're up to something that won't 
bear inspection." 

“If I didn't know you as well as I do," said 


122 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

Roy, 'Td say you had a bad attack of nerves. 
What time is it, anyhow?'' 

A little flame leaped up from the dry wood, 
and by the light of this Sage looked at his watch. 
'Ht's almost five o'clock," he answered in sur- 
prise. 

“Jingoes!" exclaimed the other boy, rising 
with a bound. “It's time we were getting out. 
With sunrise an hour away, we've got to do some 
tall hustling." 

Fred agreed to this, and, although still dis- 
turbed and perplexed over what he had heard, 
he imitated Roy in losing no time about the pre- 
parations to set forth. They pulled on their 
boots, gray sweaters and coats, and gathered up 
the guns, ammunition and decoys. Then the door 
was opened, and they went out into the black- 
ness of the last hour of night. The sky must 
have been overcast, for above the treetops there 
was no gray hint of light to suggest the coming 
dawn. The air was still and impregnated with 
the coldness that suggested Thanksgiving, tur- 
key, plum pudding and skating. 


THE HIDDEN SPORTSMEN 123 

'M know the best way/’ said Hooker. ''Fol- 
low me close.” 

Even though Roy knew the way, as they pro- 
ceeded toward the pond Sage was impressed by 
the conviction that they made at least double the 
noise that had been made by the unknown prowl- 
ers. Reaching the pond, they hurried forward 
toward the blind, but only for Hooker, they 
would have passed it. Ankle deep, they waded 
out through the swishing grass and reeds, and 
found the old raft where it had been left. 

"Only one of us can work on the raft,” said 
Roy. "You take the guns into the blind, while 
I set the decoys.” 

With no time to waste, Roy worked as swiftly 
as possible. From the blind Fred could see the 
dark figure of his chum, kneeling on the raft, as 
he spread the decoys out so that they would float 
upon the water in a natural manner and anchored 
them with the weights. As soon as this was 
done. Hooker poled the old raft back into the 
cover of the reeds and hurried to join Sage. 

"Barely made it,” he chuckled. "There’s one 


124 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 


thing we have to thank your prowling friends 
for; if we’d slept half an hour longer, it’s likely 
we would have gotten out here too late for the 
first flights. It’s getting light now in the east.” 

It was true that far over the eastern end of the 
pond a dull, grayish light was beginning to make 
itself apparent low down upon the horizon, and 
as this slowly spread it was reflected on the 
glassy, uprippled surface of the water. 

‘'Get ready for shooting,” said Hooker eag- 
erly, as he broke his gun and thrust two shells 
into the barrels. 

‘T’m loaded up already,” stated Fred, settling 
down with his repeater in a position which would 
enable him to shoot toward the decoys as well as 
watch the open stretch of the pond, up which the 
birds were expected to come from the eastward. 

Hooker knelt and tried aiming over the top of 
the blind, swinging his gun to follow the move- 
ments of some imaginary ducks. 

“All right,” he laughed softly; “let ’em come.” 

With each passing moment the grayness in 
the east continued to spread, until they could see 


THE HIDDEN SPOKTSMEN 125 

the wooded outlines of the shores, bordered by 
deep shadows. Morning did not break with a 
blush, but seemed to awaken reluctantly and 
heavily, like a person aged and weary. Its chill 
bit their noses, and would have benumbed their 
fingers, only for the heavy protecting gloves they 
wore. 

Suddenly Fred gave a low, electrifying hiss. 
'"'Birds he whispered, snatching the loose glove 
from his right hand. ""Here they come!’' 

Their nerves atingle, they crouched low, peer- 
ing forth from the blind. Against the eastern 
sky they could see some small, black, swiftly mov- 
ing specks, which they knew were ducks coming 
up the pond and doubtless headed for the feed- 
ing grounds at the western end. The guns were 
held ready for quick use, while the boys watched 
those black specks coming nearer and nearer, 
skimming through the air slightly higher than 
the treetops on the shore. 

""They’ll come in here sure !” breathed Hooker. 
""Be ready to nail them when they settle. Fire 


126 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 
when they discover the decoys aren’t the real 
thing and start to rise again.” 

But barely had he uttered the words when, 
from a mass of swamp bushes on a low point that 
thrust itself out into the pond a short distance 
away, two puffs of smoke leaped upward, fol- 
lowed by the reports of two guns, and, short- 
stopped in their flight, two of the ducks came 
tumbling downward to splash into the water. 
Immediately, with quacks of alarm, the others 
rose higher and whirled away. A third shot was 
fired from the point, but apparently it was a clean 
miss, as not one of the frightened and fleeing 
ducks betrayed a symptom of being hit. 

Thunderstruck, Sage and Hooker stared 
dumbly toward the cover from which the un- 
known hunters had fired. After a time Roy sav- 
agely exclaimed: 

“What do you think of that! Wouldn’t it kill 
you dead!” 

“It killed our chance at those birds,” returned 
Fred, as he regretfully watched them disappear- 
ing above the treetops. “Who the dickens can it be ?” 


THE HIDDEN SPORTSMEN 


127 

“We ought to find out pretty quick. They'll 
have to pick up those two ducks." 

Eagerly and wrathfully they continued to 
watch, and after some moments they saw a small 
object moving out from the point toward the 
floating ducks. 

“They've got a retriever," growled Sage, with 
increased disgust. “They're lying low and send- 
ing the dog to bring their game." 

“Confound their hides !" raged Hooker. 
“They're going to spoil our fun, just as true as 
you live. I'd like to punch their heads !" 

“It would be a great satisfaction," said Sage 
bitterly. 

“Look here, old man," said Roy, smitten by a 
thought, “there are your sneaking prowlers. 
They are the gentlemen who woke you as they 
passed the camp. I'll bet anything they had just 
come in by the old wood road." 

“I'm inclined to think you're right," admitted 
Fred. “But why were they so careful about 
making a noise? Hook, they must have known 
there was someone in that camp." 


128 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


'Wouldn’t surprise me if you had stated the 
reason for their caution. Furthermore, they 
must be wise to the way the ducks usually fly 
here, and they have the advantage of us by hid- 
ing on that point.” 

One after another, the dog retrieved the dead 
birds and carried them to the point, finally dis- 
appearing from view. 

"If some of the birds will only keep far 
enough from that point, we may get some shoot- 
ing yet, old man,” said Roy hopefully. 

In a short time another flock, larger than the 
first, was seen coming up the pond, and, to the 
great satisfaction of the boys, they were flying 
over the exact middle of the water, and would 
therefore pass beyond gun-shot of the unknown 
hunters, unless they should change their course. 

"It’s our turn now,” exulted Roy. "I think 
that bunch will come in here. Something doing 
in a minute or two, old chap.” 

There was — something tremendously provok- 
ing; for, as the flock came opposite the low point, 
both of the unseen sportsmen fired, although, 


THE HIDDEN SPOETSMEN 139 

with any reasonable amount of judgment, they 
must have realized that there was not one chance 
in a thousand that they could make a kill. Those 
shots, however, were sufficient to cause the flock 
to swerve, swing about in a half circle, and go 
speeding off into the distance. 

Hooker said something violent, while Sage 
ground his strong teeth together. 

^‘The chumps ! The miserable, sneaking 
idiots raged Roy. ‘Tf they have a bit of sense 
in their bone-heads, they must have known they 
couldn’t start a feather at that distance. Why 
do you suppose they were foolish enough to try 
it?” 

'T can’t imagine any reason, unless they were 
determined to spoil our chance,” answered Fred, 
who was now furious enough to fight. 'Tf they 
keep that addle-pated business up, we won’t get 
a shot this morning.” 

‘'Slim chance of it now, anyhow. It’s broad 
daylight, and we’ve lost our opportunity at two 
flocks. There may be other birds coming in, but 
those that have heard the firing will be likely to 


130 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 
keep away from this end of the pond. It’s rot- 
ten, that’s what it is.” 

'With good luck, we might have knocked 
down half a dozen out of that last big bunch. 
Whoever those chaps are, they’re poor sports- 
men.” 

"They’re nasty sneaks ; that’s my opinion.” 

In the course of ten minutes three ducks, evi- 
dently a remnant of a flock, came winging close 
to the point, and with four shots the hidden hunt- 
ers tumbled the trio of birds into the water. One 
was wounded, for it flopped about after splash- 
ing into the pond, but soon another shot from the 
bushes finished it. Then the dog swam out and 
did the work of retrieving. 

"It’s all off,” sighed Sage. "Our morning’s 
sport is ruined.” 

"Hardly a doubt of it,” agreed his companion. 
"That is, as far as shooting ducks is concerned. 
I propose to have a look at the gentlemen who 
have tricked us in this brilliant and commend- 
able manner. They aren’t going to get away 


THE HIDDEN SPOETSMEN 


131 


before I see them and tell them a few things. 
Come on; we can gather up the decoys later.^^ 

‘^You don’t think it’s any use to wait a little 
longer, Roy?” asked Fred, loath to release the 
skirts of hope. 

“Not a bit. Besides, I’d rather face those 
chaps now than to kill one or two stray ducks.” 

Leaving the blind, they hurried to the shore 
and turned their footsteps toward the point upon 
which the rival duck hunters were ensconced. 
Realizing it was wholly probable that their move- 
ments had been observed, they lost no time in 
plunging forward through the woods and thick- 
ets, fearing that the ones they sought might take 
alarm and depart. 

Bursting forth from the bushes side by side, 
they halted as they reached the point, beholding 
two boys leaving the shelter in which they had 
been hidden, burdened by guns and the slain 
ducks and followed by a water-spaniel. These 
boys stopped as Sage and Hooker appeared be- 
fore them. 

One was Jack Nelson; the other Sleuth Piper. 


CHAPTER XII. 


DISAPPOINTED DUCK HUNTERS. 

“Well, ril be switched!’’ exclaimed Hooker, in 
mingled astonishment and anger. 

Nelson, whose dog had done the retrieving, 
beamed pleasantly on the disappointed and 
wrathy young sportsmen. “Good morning,” he 
said. “You’re out for a little shooting, I see. 
Had any luck?” 

“Yes — rotten,” flung back Hooker. “Con- 
found you fellows! you spoiled the morning for 
us.” 

“Really?” chirped Nelson, in pretended sur- 
prise, elevating his eyebrows. “How was that ?” 

“You know how,” grated Sage hotly. “You 
did it purposely, too. But I suppose it was that 
pestering, sly, conceited, cheap imitator of Sher- 
lock Holmes who is really responsible.” 

Piper looked aggrieved. “If you’re referring 
132 


DISAPPOINTED DUCK HUNTERS 133 

to me/' he said, ''permit me to inform you that 
I’m not at all pleased by your insulting lan- 
guage." 

"I didn't intend you should be," Fred flung 
back; "and you'd be less pleased if I could find 
appropriate words to express my opinion of you. 
It was a miserable, low-down trick you fellows 
played on us this morning, and you know it." 

"Now hold on," Nelson commanded, his cheer- 
ful manner vanishing. "We won't stand for 
any of that. We've as much right to shoot ducks 
on this pond as you have." 

"Of course we have/' Piper backed him up; 
"but Sage seems to have an idea that he owns 
the earth — that's what's the matter with him." 

Fred levelled his finger at the speaker's face. 
"You have annoyed me to the limit recently," he 
grated. "After getting a crazy notion into your 
head, you've dogged me around constantly. You 
found out that Roy and I were coming here to 
shoot ducks this morning, for, without suspect- 
ing your design, he let you pump him. Straight- 
way, in a highly commendable manner, you ar- 


134 THE GKEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 


ranged to sneak in here some time in the night, 
and you planked yourself on this point, where 
you could bang away at the ducks as they flew 
past, knowing perfectly well that every time 
you’d fire into a flock you’d frighten them so that 
they would not come to our decoys. A fine piece 
of work!” 

“I say. Sage, you take it hard, don’t you?” 
laughed Nelson. “Even if we knew you were 
coming to the lake, we had a right to do so our- 
selves. And as long as you had not possession 
of this point, which is the only place, besides the 
old blind, from which any successful shooting 
can be done at this end of the pond, it surely was 
our privilege to grab it. Come, come, don’t be 
a squealer. I’ve always considered you game, 
but you’re showing another side.” 

“Once,” said Fred, “you deliberately fired at a 
passing flock when you must have known the 
birds were beyond gun-shot. If you did not do 
that to frighten them from coming to our de- 
coys, why did you do it ?” 

“Yes,” cried Hooker, “explain that.” 


DISAPPOINTED DUCK HUNTEES 135 


‘We took a chance on bringing one down, 
that’s all,” said Nelson. 

“Oh, don’t bother yourself to explain,” Piper 
put in quickly. “It’s no use; they won’t believe 
you. We’ve got to get home. Let’s not stand 
here chewing the rag.” 

“A good punching is what you deserve,” 
snarled Hooker, “and I think we could hand it 
to you, too.” 

“Permit me to express doubts,” said Nelson. 
“If you want to try it, you’ve a splendid oppor- 
tunity.” 

It was a tense moment, for both Fred and Roy 
had been striving hard to hold themselves in 
check, and the insolent defiance of the other pair 
was almost too much for them to swallow. It 
was Sage’s level head that averted the clash. 
Knowing someone might be seriously hurt in a 
hand-to-hand fight, and remembering that the 
first football game of the season would take 
place that afternoon, he put forth a hand and 
grasped Hooker’s sleeve. 

“We won’t scrap with them,” he said in a low 


136 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 


tone. '^They have shown what they are ; let them 
get as much satisfaction out of it as they can.’’ 

Piper, who had not really relished the pros- 
pect of a fist-fight, braced up wonderfully, while 
Nelson laughed again. 

‘'You’re showing a httle sense now,” said the 
latter, “which, doubtless, you’ll realize when you 
come to think it over. The joke is on you, and 
you may as well accept it in that light. It’s too 
bad you didn’t get even a shot at anything, but 
you can’t expect to go home loaded with game 
every time you hunt. Some rather pretty birds 
we have got, eh?” He held them up tantaliz- 
ingly, which caused Hooker’s teeth to snap to- 
gether and his hands to clench. 

“Come, Roy,” urged Sage, “let’s go back and 
gather up our decoys.” 

Reluctantly Hooker permitted his chum to 
swing him about, and he muttered under his 
breath : 

“Sometime I’ll even it up with this pair. 
They’ll get what’s coming, all right.” 

As they were returning for the decoys they 


DISAPPOINTED DUCK HUNTERS 137 

heard for a time the voices of Piper and Nelson, 
who seemed to be in high spirits, for they burst 
into frequent peals of laughter. Finally the ir- 
ritating sounds died out as the triumphant duck 
hunters receded into the distance, following the 
old wood-road toward the main highway. 

Grimly the disappointed lads gathered up the 
decoys and returned to the old camp. Sage was 
the first to show signs of reviving good nature, 
which symptoms at first caused Hooker more or 
less irritation. 

'Terhaps you can take it that way, Fred,^' said 
Roy ; ''but I can’t. It was a dirty piece of busi- 
ness, although it may seem very shrewd and 
humorous to Piper and Nelson.” 

Their blankets being rolled up and everything 
made ready for the appearance of Abel Hub- 
bard, they still had some time to wait for the vil- 
lage constable, and this time they spent discus- 
sing the affair. Suddenly, as if struck by a 
thought, Fred clapped his hand to his pocket and 
drew forth the remnant of a newspaper that had 
been found in the camp. 


138 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

‘'By Jove!’' he exclaimed; “that’s queer. I 
wish I’d questioned Sleuth about it.” 

“What are you driving at now?” asked his 
companion. 

“It just occurred to me that, after all, this 
paper may have been dropped here by Piper, al- 
though I don’t quite understand how it could 
have been. If so, he must have come here re- 
cently — as recently as yesterday or the day be- 
fore.” 

“Nothing to it,” declared Hooker positively. 
“He was at school both those days, and he has 
practiced regularly with the teams every night. 
He had no time to come here.” 

“Unless he did so in the night — night before 
last. But I don’t see why he ” 

“You couldn’t hire him to come here alone at 
night,” asserted Hooker ; “he’s too big a coward. 
A great detective should have plenty of courage, 
but a rabbit is a lion compared with Sleuthy.” 

“He may have had someone with him.” 

“If so, it was some fellow we know, and we’ll 
find out about it. But I don’t think there’s the 


DISAPPOINTED DUCK HUNTEES 139 
remotest chance that it can be so, for he would 
have announced the fact when we caught him 
face to face a short time ago. It would have 
served as an excuse for his presence this morn- 
ing. Why, he could have claimed that he had 
come here ahead of us to look the ground over 
and plan for a duck hunt. He could have ac- 
cused us of being encroachers. Forget it, Fred; 
Sleuth never dropped that paper in this camp.’’ 

'Which,” said Sage regretfully, "leaves us 
just where we were before, up against a mys- 
tery. I’m not going to puzzle my head over it 
any more.” 

"A sensible decision.” nodded Roy. "I’m in- 
clined to fancy you’ve placed too much import- 
ance on that particular scrap of a newspaper.” 

Shortly before nine o’clock, as they were sit- 
ting on an old log in front of the camp, they 
heard the creaking of Hubbard’s wagon, and di- 
rectly the constable appeared with the convey- 
ance. 

"Hornin’, boys,” he saluted. "What luck?” 

"Nothing but bad luck,” answered Hooker. 


140 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 


'‘Some other chaps spoiled our shooting for us, 
and we didn’t get as much as a feather.” 

“Sho! Now that’s too bad. I cal’late I seen 
them other chaps. Met ’em on the road almost 
to town. They was Jack Nelson and Billy Piper, 
and they had some birds. Seemed to feel purty 
nifty and chipper, too, for they laughed when 
they spied me. Told me I’d better get a stouter 
wagon to haul in my load, but I didn’t know just 
what they meant.” 

"Those chaps have a perverted sense of hu- 
mor,” rasped Roy. "They’ll get it taken out of 
them some day. Come on, Fred, let’s throw our 
dunnage aboard and set sail. I’m anxious to get 
home to rest up before that game this after- 


noon. 


CHAPTER XIII. 
the: tardy quarterback. 

The members of the Oakdale football team 
were gathering at the gymnasium to dress and 
prepare for the game. Singly and in groups they 
came hurrying in to open their lockers and drag 
forth suits, cleated shoes, shin guards, head 
pieces, nose protectors and other paraphernalia. 
Some were in high spirits, while others, as if 
impressed by the importance of the approaching 
contest, appeared somewhat serious and grim. 
Chipper Cooper, always volatile and lively, per- 
sisted in perpetrating some very bad puns, being 
finally given a call-down by Sile Crane, who was 
wearing an almost funereal face. 

'‘Oh, cut it aout,’’ remonstrated Sile. "Yeou'll 
make us all sick with yeour senseless slop. If 
yeouVe got an idee it's goin’ to be any picnic 
trouncin' them Barville fellers this arternoon, 
yeou're away off yeour base." 

141 


142 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 


Chipper’s retort was particularly atrocious. 
would not debase myself by such a thought,” he 
said. 

Harry Hopper let fly a shoe, which Cooper 
deftly dodged. '‘You’ll be murdered some day 
if you don’t quit it,” declared Harry. 

"It wouldn’t be murder,” said Chub Tuttle, 
carelessly spilling peanuts from his pocket as he 
flung his coat aside; "it would be a noble deed 
for the general public good. No jury would ever 
convict a feller for killing Coop in a frenzied mo- 
ment, following one of his alleged witticisms.” 

"The assassin sure would escape on the plea of 
temporary insanity,” laughed Rodney Grant. 

"I tell yeou, fellers, we’ve got to play some if 
we trim Barville,” said Crane. "I’ve got it 
straight from Len Roberts that they’re goin’ to 
chaw us up.” 

"In the name of a good old English poet, let 
them Chaucer,” snickered Cooper, flinging him- 
self into a defensive attitude. "Come on, you 
base scoundrels; I defy you.” 

"Roberts is a big wind-bag,” was the opinion 


THE TAEDY QUAETEKBACK 


143 


of Jack Nelson. ‘‘He’s always blowing about 
what Barville is going to do.” 

“But they’ve got a coach,” said Crane. “Last 
year we had one, but this season, without Roger 
Eliot to raise the spondulicks, we couldn’t git one. 
They’ve got some new players, too, that are said 
to be rippers. I tell yeou, boys. I’m worried.” 

“It’s just as bad to worry as it is to be over- 
confident,” said Ben Stone, the captain of the 
eleven, appearing among them. “It’s my opinion 
they’ve been trying to get our goat by setting 
afloat a lot of hot air about the strength of their 
team and their wonderful new players. If we 
go onto the field feeling a bit shy of them, which 
is doubtless what they want, they will try to get 
the jump on us at the start. But we’re not going 
to let them work that trick. Has anyone seen 
Sage? I wonder where he is.” 

Fred Sage, who was usually one of the first 
to be on hand, had not arrived, and when, a short 
time later, he still remained absent, the captain’s 
wonderment took on a touch of anxiety. 

“Here, Hooker,” he called to Roy, who, as a 
substitute, was getting into his armor, “do you 


144 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


know anything about Sage? He isn't around." 

‘Tve been wondering where he was," con- 
fessed Hooker. '1 haven't seen him since I left 
him in front of his house this forenoon." 

“Perhaps," suggested Jack Nelson maliciously, 
“he's suffering from an attack of indigestion. 
Wild duck is pretty heavy food, you know." 

“Look out," retorted Roy, “that you don't have 
to eat crow yet." 

Another five minutes passing, and the quarter- 
back failing to arrive. Stone decided to send out 
for him. 

“Here, Tommy," he called to Tommy Shea, the 
mascot of the team, “you go find Sage and tell 
him to get a move on. We must have our regu- 
lar warming up before the game, and I'll guaran- 
tee Barville is on the field now. I can't see 
what's happened to keep him away. Stir your- 
self, Tommy." 

As the little fellow dusted out of the gym- 
nasium there came through the momentarily 
opened door the sound of a hearty Barville cheer, 
which, doubtless, proclaimed the advent of the 
visitors on the adjacent field. 


THE TAEDY QUAETEEBACK 


145 


‘‘They must have plenty of confidence in their 
team/’ said Bob Collins, “for they’ve certainly 
sent over a big bunch of rooters. People have 
been coming from Barville in all sorts of turn- 
outs for the past two hours.” 

“All the more gate money for us,” exulted the 
optimistic Cooper. “In fancy I can hear the 
merry jingle of their quarters. They can give 
us as many as they please, but we’ll give them no 
quarter to-day. Nevertheless, without Sage we’d 
be a quarter short, and we’d feel it before the end 
of the first half. Mercy! I surrender! Spare 
me!” 

No one paid the slightest attention to him, 
however, which led him disgustedly to mutter 
something about casting pearls before swine. 

In a short time Tommy Shea returned, fol- 
lowed closely by Sage, whose face was flushed 
and who betrayed some tokens of unusual ex- 
citement. At least, this was what the watchful 
Piper thought, and he became, if possible, more 
watchful than ever. 

“Met him on the way, captain,” the mascot re- 
ported to Stone. 


146 THE GKEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 


''You're late, Fred," said Ben sharply. "We're 
ready to go out now, all but you. Anything the 
matter?" 

"No— no, nothing the matter," was the some- 
what faltering answer, as Sage began ripping 
off his clothes, having given Tommy Shea the key 
to open his locker. "I had — some things to do at 
home, and I didn't — I didn't realize it was so 
late." 

"Lame excuse," whispered Piper to himself. 
"Something has happened, sure. He's in a per- 
fect stew." 

While Fred was hurriedly preparing for the 
field. Stone called the others around him and 
talked to them earnestly, laying out a plan of 
campaign for the first quarter. At first he ad- 
dressed them all in a general way, after which 
he singled out individual members of the eleven 
and gave each one advice and instructions. Ere 
he had gone through the list Sage was completely 
dressed for the game and apparently drinking in 
the captain's words, although to Piper it seemed 
that he listened with a distinct effort which be- 
trayed a tendency of his mind to wander. 


THE TAEDY QUAETEEBACK 147 

''Just a word to you, Sage,’' said Stone in con- 
clusion. "Keep things moving on the jump. 
Don’t waste any time over your signals when 
we’re on the offensive. I have an idea that Bar- 
ville will try to rush us off our feet at the start, 
and we mustn’t let them do that. We’ll hammer 
them hard as we can with straight football to 
begin with, and hold back our trick plays for use 
in emergencies. Of course if we quickly get 
within striking distance of their goal, and they 
hold us for a down that doesn’t give us a proper 
gain, you may see fit to try a trick or to work the 
forward pass. Now come on, everybody; let’s 
go out with a snap and show that we’re alive.” 

From the gymnasium to the players’ entrance 
of the field was only a short distance, and Ben 
led his sturdy followers at a swift pace. The 
visitors were practicing at one end of the field, 
watched and encouraged by the surprisingly 
large gathering of Barville supporters who had 
followed them to Oakdale. As the shocky-haired 
locals dashed out into the open space they were 
given a lusty cheer by the majority of the as- 
sembled spectators. At once two footballs were 


14.g THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


put into use by them, and they went at the work 
of warming up with commendable method and 
ginger. 

It was a hazy autumn afternoon, the sky being 
overcast with a filmy veil, through which the sun 
shone with a muffled orange glow. A tempered 
southwest wind was blowing steadily, but not 
with sufficient vigor to give much advantage to 
the defenders of the western goal. For the spec- 
tators on the seats, light outer wraps were 
needed, even though the air was not crisp enough 
to make first-class football weather. 

With their coach watching them closely, the 
Barville lads were making an impression by their 
snappy practice, in which short dashes, every 
man starting fast and running low, seemed to be 
a particular feature. 

Stone took this in at a glance, even while he 
did not appear to give the rival team as much as 
momentary attention. It was a reminder, how- 
ever, that for the past week he had striven con- 
stantly to drill into the heads of his teammates 
the necessity for rapidity in both assault and 


THE TAKDY QUARTERBACK 


149 


defence, and the advantage of hitting the oppos- 
ing line low and hard. 

Among the followers of professional sports 
there can be no such genuine loyalty and enthu- 
siasm as that shown by the adherents of school 
and college teams ; for, as a class, the supporters 
of such teams are, like the players, heart and 
soul in the game. In most cases the contestants 
they are backing and on whom they pin their 
hopes are known to them personally, which fact 
establishes between them such friendly personal 
relations as seldom exist between masses of 
spectators and professionals ; and always a well- 
earned victory is a thing to be rejoiced over by 
the satisfied supporter of the triumphant team, 
like a piece of personal good fortune. 

The referee for this game came from Clear- 
port, and was equally acceptable and satisfac- 
tory to both teams, having demonstrated in other 
contests his absolute impartiality and fairness. 
At the proper moment he walked briskly out upon 
the field and held a low-spoken consultation with 
the two captains. A coin was tossed, and. Oak- 


150 THE GKEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 


dale obtaining the choice, Ben took the western 
goal. 

The cheering of the spectators sank to a mur- 
mur, and was followed by a few tense moments 
of silence as the youthful gladiators spread out 
over the outlined chalk marks and made 
ready for the kick-off. Barville had been given 
the ball, and the referee placed it carefully upon 
a little soft mound of earth formed by his own 
hands at the exact center of the field. A short 
distance away Copley, the fullback, who was to 
make the kick, balanced and steadied himself, 
his eyes fastened on the huge yellow egg. The 
referee retreated; the whistle sounded. With 
tensed muscles, the players crouched a bit, ready 
for the dash. 

Copley advanced, quickening his steps. With 
perfect judgment, he came into position with the 
proper stride, swung his lusty right leg with 
vigor, and, following the plunk of his foot 
against the ball, the pigskin went sailing and 
soaring far into Oakdale’s territory. 


CHAPTER XIV. 


F'IRST QUARTEJR. 

Warren and Forest, the Barville ends, raced 
along in a desperate dash, closing in as the ball 
began to fall. Rodney Grant was waiting for 
the oncoming pigskin, balanced ready for action, 
his arms outstretched. He made a clean, fair 
catch, and was off like a broncho of his native 
state, quirt-stung and spur- jabbed. On one side 
Warren was blocked off, but on the other Forest 
came in like a charging fury and flung himself at 
the Texan. Down they went on the thirty-yard 
line, with the other players converging toward 
that spot. 

Remembering Stone’s admonition to hustle and 
line up without loss of a moment, the Oakdale 
boys strained every nerve to get quickly into po- 
sition for the first scrimmage. This was their 
opportunity to show Barville right off the reel 
what real snappy aggression meant, 

151 


152 THE GKEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 


''Lively ! lively urged Stone ; and, ere the line 
of the locals seemed fully formed, Sage began 
barking the signal. He spat out the numbers 
sharply, every one clear and distinct, and Oak- 
dale Avent into Barville like a whirlwind before 
the visitors were fully set for defence. The re- 
sult was a gain of eighteen yards, made in a 
style which seemed to carry the Barville boys 
completely off their feet, with the exception of 
the sturdy fullback, Copley, who yanked down 
the runner and prevented what had promised to 
be a clean break through the defence, and what 
might have given the man with the pigskin a run- 
ning chance to score. 

The home crowd went wild over this appar- 
ently demoralizing attack of the Oakdale boys, 
and there were many who, forming a hasty judg- 
ment, declared their conviction that the locals 
outclassed the visitors. 

Sanger, who knew Stone as a rather slow and 
methodical chap, had not imagined for a moment 
that the Oakdale captain would spur his team to 
a point of such rapid aggression. The Barville 
leader, however, was not slow to grasp the fact 


THE FIRST QUARTER 


153 


that he had made an error in judgment, and his 
voice was heard calling sharply to his somewhat 
disorganized men as he ordered them to get into 
position to stop the next charge. Copley came 
up somewhat dazed by the shock of the collision 
with the runner; but the latter was even more 
dazed, and was so long about finding his place 
in the formation that Barville was given suffi- 
cient time to make ready for defence. 

Three stingy yards were all Oakdale could 
make on another line plunge; and when, follow- 
ing this, a round-the-end run promised more sat- 
isfactory results, the argus-eyed referee dis- 
mayed the shrieking adherents of the team by 
penalizing the locals for holding. 

Barville took heart at once and fought Oak- 
dale tooth and nail, until the latter team was com- 
pelled to kick rather than take the chance of los- 
ing the ball on downs. Stone, who had a lusty 
leg, booted the pigskin into the enemy’s territory, 
where Larry Groove, the left halfback, scooped 
it on the jump, dodged Hopper, and came all the 
way back to the center line before he was 
slammed to the turf. Of course this gave the 


154 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


Barville crowd its chance to cheer madly, and 
their cries mingled with the Oakdale plaudits for 
the tackier. 

‘'Ginger up ! ginger up Lee Sanger was call- 
ing, as he crouched behind Bart Rock, the center. 
“Signal ! signal Then he reeled off a few sharp 
numbers, and the youthful contestants leaped at 
one another like tigers. 

Again and again they crashed together, but 
Oakdale stubbornly held its ground until an un- 
expected fluke — a bad pass and a muff — ^gave 
Sage a splendid opportunity. The ball came 
bounding to his very feet, with Rollins and Tut- 
tle blocking off two of the enemy, the only ones 
who seemed to realize just what had happened, 
and Fred had time to scoop the ball up and a fine 
chance to get away with it for a run. 

Instead of doing so. Sage stared for a moment 
at the pigskin, as if he did not realize what it 
was. And when he awoke from this brief spell 
of numbness and started into life and action, it 
was Nelson who flung himself on the oval, to be 
pinned down by Hope, who had finally bucked 
Tuttle aside. 


THE FIKST QUARTER 


155 


In this manner, through the faltering of Sage, 
Barville, although she lost the ball, stopped what 
might have been a gain of ground by the locals. 

Piper, who seemed to see everything, saw this, 
although he was too far away at the time of the 
fumble to get his hands on the pigskin. Sleuth 
glared at Sage. 

‘^Something wrong,’’ he panted to himself. 
''First time he ever did a thing like that.” 

"Wake up! wake up!” Stone was calling 
sharply. "Positions ! Get ready ! Come on. 
Sage, give us the signal.” 

"Signal!” said Sage, and then he paused, as 
if collecting his thoughts. "Signal !” he repeated. 
"5—11—16—24.” 

It was the former line-bucking play, which,* 
through experience thus quickly obtained, Bar-« 
ville was ready to meet. Instead of a gain, the 
result was a loss of two yards, the visitors actu- 
ally bearing the line of the home team back. 

As the tangled mass of men untwined, follow- 
ing the blast of the whistle. Sage heard Stone 
calling in his ear: 


156 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 


''Vary it, Fred. Something else; something 
else, quick!’’ 

The quarterback gave himself a shake. The 
men were hopping into the line-up, and the Bar- 
villeites, now equally alert and ready, were plant- 
ing themselves for defence. Straight old-fash- 
ioned line bucking, with no varying plays, had 
already become ineffective, and Sage gave the 
signal for the double pass and the criss-cross. 
The ball went to Nelson, who shot toward the 
right. Grant closing in as if to support him, but 
passing across his very heels and taking the pig- 
skin as he passed. Cooper blocked the right end 
off. Piper put his body into the right tackle and 
bore him in the opposite direction. A hole was 
opened at precisely the proper moment, and 
through it went the Texan at full speed. 

The main body of the enemy’s back field had 
been led into starting in the wrong direction. 
The right halfback, who was one of these, saw 
through the play a moment too late to reach 
Grant. The fullback, however, came charging 
across, forcing Rodney out toward the side line. 
It seemed that the Texan would be run out of 



THE FULL-BACK CAME CHARGING ACROSS, FORCING RODNEY 
TOWARD THE SIDE LINE. 

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THE EIEST QUAETEE 157 

bounds, but ten feet from the border of the field 
he deceived the charging fullback by a sudden 
half-pivoting swerve, and the would-be tackler's 
fingers barely scraped his canvas jacket as he 
shot by. 

The crowd rose and roared, for Grant was 
flying over the chalk marks with giant strides, 
followed by the players of both teams. Head 
thrown back, nostrils expanded, Rodney covered 
the ground as if his very life depended on it. 

‘‘Touchdown!’’ howled the excited Oakdale 
spectators. “Touchdown ! touchdown !” 

There was no preventing it. Over the Bar- 
ville goal line went Grant, planting the ball fav- 
orably for a goal. He did not seem to hear the 
school cheer, which, with his name tagged at the 
end, came rolling across the field. His manner 
was grim and businesslike ; his attention was en- 
tirely centered upon the matter in hand. 

There was no need to punt the ball out. 
Brought forth properly by the referee, it gave 
Oakdale a most favorable chance to boot it over 
the bar, and Stone performed the trick. 

As the teams changed positions on the field. 


158 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


the Oakdale captain found time to rest his hand 
for a moment on the shoulder of Sage and speak 
a few low, hasty words to him. In response Fred 
nodded. 

Soon they were at it again, but Barville, ap- 
parently nothing disheartened, resumed the 
struggle more fiercely and grimly than ever. The 
tide of battle ebbed and flowed, neither side gain- 
ing any great advantage, until presently a long, 
shrill blast of the whistle announced the end of 
the first scrimmage. 

As the boys jogged off the field. Chipper 
Cooper gave Piper a slap on the back, crying : 

“Well, we put one across on ’em all right.” 

“Yes,” nodded Sleuth; “but Sage lost an op- 
portunity for us before that. He isn’t right to- 
day. There’s something the matter with him, or 
I’m a dunce.” 


CHAPTER XV. 


THE) player who BLUNDERED. 

The elation of the Oakdale players over mak- 
ing a touchdown and goal in the first quarter was 
quickly subdued by their captain, who, in the 
privacy of the gym, sternly informed them that 
they should have done much better. 

‘Tt was a lucky stab, nothing less,'’ said Ben. 
''Only for the resourcefulness and speed of 
Grant, they would have held us scoreless. We 
threw away fine opportunities, one splendid 
chance in particular; and, although we got the 
start on them to begin with, we made nothing 
by it. Unless we do better, we'll be outplayed in 
the next quarter, mark what I say." 

After this bit of general talk, he selected sev- 
eral of the players for special advice and criti- 
cism. Lastly he spoke to the quarterback, whose 
eyes, although fixed on Stone, held a far-away 
look, which seemed to indicate lack of attention. 

159 


160 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

'‘Sage/' said Ben sharply, "Sage, listen to me/' 

"Yes, sir/' said Fred, with a start. 

"Several times you were woefully slow with 
your signals, and you know that the swift ag- 
gression of a team depends mainly upon the quar- 
terback. No matter how prompt and ready the 
players may be, they can't play fast when a quar- 
ter dawdles over his signals. It's not like you to 
be slow, and I fail to understand it. You missed 
a fine chance to take advantage of a Barville 
fumble, and, only for Nelson, those chaps would 
have obtained possession of the ball after losing 
it on a bungling pass and letting it bound to your 
very feet. Are you sick?" 

Fred's face was crimson. "No, sir. I'm not 
sick," he answered. "I'm all right." 

"Then it's up to you to get into the game and 
play as if you were all right." 

"I will, depend on it," promised the quarter- 
back. 

Before the boys returned to the field Roy 
Hooker found an opportunity to speak privately 
with his friend. 

"Get a brace on, Fred — get a brace on," urged 


THE PLAYEK WHO BLUNDEEED 


161 


Roy. you don’t, theyTl blame it on our little 
outing last night. I never saw you so punk be- 
fore. Your wits seem to be wool-gathering.” 

guess that’s right,” acknowledged Fred re- 
gretfully. ^Tll get into gear now. Watch me.” 

^'Has anything happened to worry you?” 

'^Nun-no,” faltered Sage, ‘'not a thing.” But, 
somehow, Roy felt that his chum had not spoken 
the truth. 

The second quarter opened quite as fiercely as 
the first, but with Barville plainly prepared for 
quick, savage work and ready to contribute her 
part of it. Indeed, the visitors seemed the more 
aggressive, even though Oakdale improved all 
the opportunities that were offered; and, pres- 
ently, after some eight minutes of play, the home 
team found itself making a desperate defence 
on its own thirty-yard line. Right there, after 
a first down had yielded no gain, Barville tried 
the forward pass and executed it successfully, 
cutting down the distance to the home team’s 
goal by fully one half. 

“Hold them, boys — you’ve got to hold them !” 
was the cry from the Oakdale crowd. 


162 THE GKEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 


^^Got ’em going !” came from the visiting spec- 
tators. ''Keep it up, boys ! Put the ball over for 
a touchdown! You can do it!” 

Barville had found a weak spot in Oakdale’s 
line, and, mercilessly buffeted and battered. Bob 
Collins, the left guard, showed signs of groggi- 
ness. With only fifteen yards to gain, the visi- 
tors followed the forward pass with another as- 
sault on Collins, which, although they made only 
a slight gain, left him groaning on the ground. 
Promptly attended by a doctor, Collins pluckily 
tried to stand on his pins and resume his place 
in the line; but the moment he was released by 
supporting hands he staggered, being prevented 
from falling only by the quickness of Nelson in 
catching him. 

Stone saw that Collins could not continue and 
ordered him to the side line, at the same time 
calling for Hooker. Surprised that he should be 
selected from the waiting substitutes, Roy 
promptly responded. 

"Get in there at left guard. Hooker,” directed 
Stone, "and see if you can stop that hole.” 

Fresh and exultant, Roy took his place in the 


THE PLAYER WHO BLUNDERED 163 

line, and, when Barville tried the quality of the 
substitute, the hole was found to be stopped ef- 
fectively. Not another foot could the visitors 
gain through Oakdale’s left wing. 

Blocked and held, Barville apparently decided 
to try for a field goal, even though success at 
that would leave the home team still in the lead. 
It was Stone, however, who suspected a fake 
and hurriedly warned his players ; and Ben’s per- 
ception baffled the smashing charge of the visi- 
tors, who were held for the final down, thus los- 
ing the ball. 

Of course no time was lost in booting the pig- 
skin away from that dangerous point. 

Nothing daunted over this failure, Barville 
resumed the battering process, occasionally vary- 
ing it with an end run or some peculiar piece of 
strategy of her own concoction. But the locals, 
stronger on the defence than the offence, refused 
for the time being to let the enemy regain the 
lost advantage. 

In the last minutes of the quarter, with Oak- 
dale in possession of the ball. Sage once more be- 
trayed surprising slowness and even symptoms 


164 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


of confusion in giving the signals. This was 
true to such an extent that finally, in despera- 
tion, Stone went in at quarter himself, letting 
Fred play fullback. And even then Sage was 
slow about getting into the plays. 

The quarter ended with the score unchanged. 

In the second period of rest the Oakdale cap- 
tain drew the quarterback apart from the others 
and talked to him with great earnestness. Of 
those who watched the two. Piper took special 
note of the fact that Sage seemed discouraged 
and downcast, and it was evident that Stone was 
seeking by every possible manner of encourage- 
ment to brace him up. With Fred at his best, no 
one else on the team could fill his position nearly 
as well, and for this reason Ben was extremely 
loath to make a change. 

Collins, having recovered from the gruelling 
he had received, was anxious to get back into 
the game, and he made an appeal to Stone the 
moment Ben finished his talk with Sage. 
Hooker, however, had done surprisingly well, 
and the captain told Collins that he would have 


THE PLAYEE WHO BLUNDEEED 165 

wait until, during the course of the play, an op- 
portunity offered for him to return. 

The Oakdale boys were now showing few 
signs of elation, for the second quarter had led 
them to realize that the two teams were more 
evenly matched than they had supposed, and that, 
doubtless, they had been rather lucky in secur- 
ing six points in the first quarter, to say nothing 
of their success in holding Barville in check after 
that. 

In the last minute before they returned to the 
field. Stone called all the players around him and 
hastily gave them a plan of action. As soon as 
the ball came into their possession, unless they 
should chance to get it so close to their own line 
that a kick would be necessary, they were to 
line up and attempt a series of three varied plays, 
without waiting for signals. He was careful to 
make them all understand precisely what those 
plays were to be, and in what order they would 
be carried out. Having made certain that no 
man misunderstood these directions, he led them 
back to the gridiron. 

It was Barville’s kick-off, but Copley’s effort 


166 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 


was somewhat weak, and Nelson ran the ball al- 
most to the forty-five yard line before he bit 
the dirt. This made it especially favorable for 
the carrying out of Stone's plans, and the Oak- 
dale players lined up, eager to get the start on 
their antagonists then and there. 

Tuttle, with the ball between his feet, took one 
quick backward glance, and, seeing the others 
springing into position, prepared to snap it. Just 
as he was on the point of doing so, he was as- 
tounded to hear Sage cry : 

“Signal!" Following which, Fred rattled off 
some numbers which called for a play entirely 
different from that agreed upon. 

A bit confused, Tuttle snapped the ball to 
Sage, who passed it instantly to Grant. The 
confusion of the center was likewise felt by 
every member of the team, which led to faltering 
and gave the enemy a chance to overwhelm them 
and bear them back for a loss of more than five 
yards. 

In the midst of the untangling mass Stone 
reached Sage, grasped him by the shoulder and 
almost snarled into his ear; 


THE PLAYEE WHO BLUNDEKED 167 

‘‘What’s the matter with you? What made 
you do that? You know we had arranged to 
work three plays without signals.” 

''I — I forgot,” said Fred. “Fm sorry, but I 
forgot, captain.” 

“Well, you messed things finely! It’s too late 
now. Get into action and see if you can make 
up for the blunder somehow.” 

Apparently Sage tried hard to atone, and for 
a time he displayed a return to his best form. 
His blunder, however, had greatly disturbed the 
others, and the entire team betrayed such un- 
certainty and lack of cohesive, united action that 
the home crowd was dismayed. In a few mo- 
ments Oakdale was compelled to surrender the 
ball on a kick. 

After this the quarter was heartbreaking in 
many ways. Twice the visitors threatened Oak- 
dale’s goal, and twice they were repulsed. In 
her turn Oakdale had an opportunity that set her 
supporters into a frenzy of hope and enthusiasm. 
An end run that netted thirty yards was followed 
by a trick play that yielded ten more, and then 


168 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


came a forward pass which placed the locals 
within striking distance of the enemy’s goal. 

Right there Sage once more dashed Oakdale’s 
hopes. The team had two sets of signals. This 
was necessary to enable them to switch from one 
set to the other in case their opponents should 
get wise to the signals in use. Now, however, 
Sage put them all into confusion by mixing the 
signals himself in such a manner that it was im- 
possible to tell which of two plays he had called 
for. Then he made a bad pass, which was fol- 
lowed by a fumble, and Barville, coming through 
Oakdale like water through a sieve, got the ball. 

Immediately Stone ordered Sage out of the 
game. Nelson was placed at quarter, and his 
position was filled by a substitute. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


r^markabi.e: be:havior of sagf. 

Crestfallen and deeply chagrined, Sage at- 
tempted to watch the game from the side line. 
He gave no heed to the substitutes, who stared 
at him and muttered among themselves. His 
face, at first flushed, gradually lost its color until 
it became almost ghastly and haggard. He saw 
the exultant, confident Barville team, with the 
ball in its possession, tearing to pieces the defence 
of the locals in a manner that promised disaster 
for Oakdale. 

''They’ll seek explanations in the next inter- 
mission,” he whispered to himself. "I can’t an- 
swer their questions.” 

Turning suddenly, he left the field. Having 
passed outside, he made a dash for the gymna- 
sium, in which he began ripping off his sweat- 
soaked football togs in a manner that was al- 
most frantic. He did not pause for a shower, 
knowing that there would be no time for it if he 
169 


iro THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

wished to get away before his teammates ap- 
peared. Dully he seemed to hear the cheering of 
the crowd upon the field, taking notice in a be- 
numbed way that the Barville cry was swelling 
stronger and more triumphant. 

Leaving his playing togs as he had dropped 
them, he dashed bareheaded from the gymna- 
sium, flinging himself into his coat as he ran. 
Round the corner he darted, scudded down Lake 
Street until the entrance to the academy yard 
was reached, ran panting across the yard and 
settled into a rapid walk when his feet were pres- 
ently on the path that led across lots between 
Middle and High Streets. 

He had made his escape none too soon, for 
barely was he out of sight when the third quarter 
ended and the Oakdale players came hurrying 
toward the gymnasium. They were a soiled, bat- 
tered, weary-looking band, and more than one 
seemed to totter in his stride. In the gym they 
flung themselves down upon benches and blank- 
ets, some even sprawling upon the floor. 

'Gripes groaned Sile Crane. "Them fellers 
sartainly made us fight. We barely held ’em.’’ 


EEMARKABLE BEHAVIOR OF SAGE 171 

'Hf they’d had another minute they’d have 
scored,” sighed Harry Hopper. ‘^They’re bet- 
ter trained than we are. They’re like iron. 
That’s what a coach does for a team.” 

Two chaps were rubbing Chipper Cooper’s left 
ankle, which he had wrenched in a scrimmage. 
The smell of witch hazel and arnica filled the 
room. 

‘Xook at the confounded thing,” snapped 
Chipper, his face contorted by grimaces of pain. 
‘‘You can almost see it swell. I’ll be as lively as 
a toad on that bum peg.” 

“If Sage hadn’t messed things up!” muttered 
Rodney Grant, as if speaking to himself. 
“What was the matter with him, anyhow?” 

“Where is Sage?” asked Stone, looking 
around. ^T don’t believe he came in from the 
field. Here, Shea, go bring Sage.” 

Piper touched Ben on the arm. 

“Don’t bother to send for him, captain,” he 
advised. 

“Why not?” 

“You won’t find him out there. He’s gone.” 

“Gone— where? Why 


172 THE GKEAT OAKDxiLE MYSTEKY 

‘H don’t know where,” said Sleuth; ‘'but he’s 
gone. Here are his field clothes just as he 
dropped them. He didn’t even stop to put them 
away.” 

Astonishment was plainly revealed in Stone’s 
face. 

“I don’t understand it,” he finally said in a 
low tone. “I can’t see why Fred should desert 

us like this. What will we do if ” He 

checked himself abruptly. 

“He’s run away! He’s quit!” cried Nelson. 
“What do you know about that, fellows?” 

Hooker rose to the defence of his chum. “I’m 
dead sure Fred is sick,” he said. “There’s no 
other explanation for his actions. He wouldn’t 
acknowledge it, but he must be sick. You all 
know what a football enthusiast he is, and you 
never before saw him put up such a numb, bun- 
gling game.” 

“At least,” said Stone, “if he had to quit, he 
might have let me know.” 

The inexplicable action of Sage seemed to cast 
a heavier shadow upon the team. Desperately 
though Stone sought to rally his players, he could 


EEMAEKABLE BEHAVIOE OF SAGE 173 


not help feeling that the effort was profitless. 
They returned to the game in a spiritless, almost 
sullen humor, which made them, although they 
fought stubbornly, quite unable to cope with the 
persistent, determined, undaunted visitors; and, 
with the opportunity in their grasp, the Barville- 
ites presently hammered out a touchdown and 
kicked the tying goal. 

Oakdale made a mighty effort to hold the game 
to a draw, and for a time it seemed that such 
would be the result. In the very last minute of 
play, however, getting within the home team’s 
twenty-five yard line, the visitors made a field 
goal. 

As the ball soared over the crossbar a groan of 
dismay came from the Oakdale spectators. 

‘‘That settles it,” declared a keenly disap- 
pointed man. “Our boys are beaten.” 

He was right; the game ended with Barville 
victorious and jubilant. 

It was a sore and disgruntled bunch of fel- 
lows who took their showers and rubdowns in 
the gymnasium. With scarcely an exception, 
they were disposed to place the blame of their 


174 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 


defeat entirely upon Sage. Vainly Hooker tried 
to defend his friend. 

‘‘He ran away without a word/’ reminded 
Grant. “There’s sure no excuse for that.” 

“Nary bit,” agreed Crane. “He done us a 
dirty turn to-day, and it’ll take a whole lot of 
explainin’ to put him right with the bunch.” 

Roy was the first to leave the gymnasium, and 
he started almost at a run for Sage’s home. 

“I don’t understand it myself,” he muttered, as 
he hurried along. “I can’t imagine what threw 
Fred into such a pitiful condition. I hope he can 
explain.” 

As he came within view of Fred’s home he 
discovered his chum and Mr. Sage standing near 
the open stable door, apparently engaged in con- 
versation. At the same moment Fred seemed to 
espy Roy, and immediately, with a quick word to 
his father, he darted into the stable and disap- 
peared. 

Mr. Sage walked out to meet Hooker. There 
was a strange expression on the man’s face, and 
Roy fancied that he seemed somewhat nervous 
and distraught. 


EEMAEKABLE BEHAVIOE OF SAGE 175 

^Td like to see Fred a minute/^ said Hooker. 

'Tm sorry,” was the answer, ‘‘but he's not 
feeling well. He can't see you.'' 

His perplexity greatly augmented, Roy stared 
at the man. 

“Is he ill?'' 

Andrew Sage seemed to hesitate. Lifting a 
hand to his lips, he coughed behind it. 

“Well, not — er — not exactly ill,” he answered; 
“but he isn't feeling well enough to talk with 
anyone, Roy. I hope you don't mind?” 

This treatment from his comrade piqued 
Hooker. “I didn't suppose,” he said, “that Fred 
would refuse to see me unless he was danger- 
ously ill in bed — and I know he isn't that. It's 
all right, though. Will you please tell him that 
Barville won the game?” 

Turning, he walked slowly away, his brow 
knitted with perplexity. 

“I can't understand it,” he told himself once 
more. “It's too much for me. He isn't sick, 
that's sure; and still, his father says that he 
doesn't feel well. Possibly,” he added resent- 
fully, “the information that Barville trimmed us 
will make him feel better.” 


CHAPTER XVIL 


WORK OF THE) YOUNG DETECTIVE. 

That evening a group of somewhat doleful- 
looking boys gathered in front of the Oakdale 
post-office and shivered as they discussed the 
game. Without a single dissenting voice they 
blamed Sage for their failure to win from Bar- 
ville. 

Sleuth Piper appeared, hurried into the post- 
office and presented himself at the delivery win- 
dow. 

‘Xook a’ the businesslike bustle of the great 
detective,’’ said Crane, watching Piper through 
the window. ‘‘Anyone would sorter s’pose he 
expected to receive about a bushel of important 
mail. I bet he don’t get a thing.” 

“You lose,” said Hunk Rollins, as a letter was 
passed out to Sleuth. “He’s got something.” 

Before opening the letter. Piper was seen ea- 
gerly scanning the postmark upon the envelope, 
176 


WORK OF THE YOUNG DETECTIVE 177 

and the watchers fancied there was an expres- 
sion of mingled excitement and satisfaction upon 
his face. Coming forth, Sleuth paused in front 
of a lighted window a short distance from the 
others and tore his letter open. In a moment he 
was eagerly intent upon the contents. 

^^Hi! Who^s the girl, Sleuthy?’^ called Jack 
Nelson. 'Xet us read it, will you?’^ 

'^’Sh sibilated Chub Tuttle, spluttering forth 
munched peanuts with a hissing sound. ‘^The 
great detective has a scent.’’ 

''Huh !” grunted Cooper, with a forced laugh. 
"If that’s so, he’s better off than I am. I bet on 
the game, and I haven’t a cent.” 

"Look,” urged Nelson — "look at Sleuthy’s 
face ! He’s excited. By Jinks ! that letter must 
be rather interesting.” 

"I’ll get a peep at it,” said Harry Hopper. 
"I’ll tell you if it’s a girl’s writing.” 

But, although he tiptoed forward with great 
caution, Sleuth detected his approach, and, hav- 
ing finished reading the letter, hastily folded the 
missive and thrust it into his pocket. 

"Go chase yourself, Mr. Sly Boy,” he said, 


178 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


waving Hopper off. ‘'Rubbering will give you 
a cramp in the neck sometime.” 

Roy Hooker, looking decidedly glum, came 
slouching along, his hands thrust deep into his 
pockets. Immediately Sleuth pounced upon him. 

“Just the man Fm looking for,” said Piper, in 
almost tragic tones. 

Roy drew away, seeking to shake Sleuth’s hand 
from his shoulder. 

“Well, Fm not looking for you,” he retorted. 
“Fve no particular use for you. Piper.” 

“Come now,” said Sleuth, “I wish to hold a 
private consultation with you on a matter of im- 
mense moment.” 

“Run away and consult with yourself,” 
snapped Roy. “I don’t like your company, and 
you know the reason why.” 

But Sleuth grabbed at him again as he made 
a move to pass on. 

“Wait,” whispered Piper. “Perhaps you’d 
like to know what was the matter with Sage to- 
day? I can tell you.” 

“The deuce you can!” 


WORK OF THE YOUKG DETECTIVE 179 


“I can/^ insisted the other boy. ‘Tve solved 
the mystery.’’ 

“Well, if you know what ailed him, why don’t 
you tell? I’m sure I’m not the only one who 
w^ould like to have the matter cleared up.” 

“It’s not a subject for the public ear. Hooker; 
it’s something to be talked over privately and dis- 
creetly between ourselves. If you want to know 
what I know, you’ll just take a little walk with 
me to some spot where we’ll be all by our lone- 
somes. If you don’t want to know, if you haven’t 
got any interest in Sage and his affairs, you 
needn’t bother.” 

To say the least, Roy’s curiosity was aroused. 

“I’ll wager it will be a waste of time,” he said; 
“but I’ll listen. What have you done, concocted 
some sort of fool deduction about it?” 

“I have the straight, solid, indisputable facts 
right in my inside pocket. I can tell you some- 
thing about the Sages that will make your hair 
curl. Where shall we go?” 

“You say.” 

“Down to the bridge. There’s not likely to 
be anybody around there.” 


180 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

It was somewhat chilly upon the bridge which 
spanned the river below Lake Woodrim, and 
Hooker's teeth were inclined to chatter as he 
leaned against the railing and invited his com- 
panion to ''divulge." 

"To begin with," said Piper, "I want to ask 
you a question, and I hope you'll give me an hon- 
est answer. You've been mighty chummy with 
Sage, and I have a notion that he gave me away 
by telling you that I was trying to make a ten- 
strike by capturing a certain criminal for whom 
a large reward is offered. Am I right, or not?" 

"Whatever Fred has told me in confidence. I'll 
not blow on him. If it was your object to pump 
me. Piper, you're wasting your time — and mine." 

"You don't have to answer," said Sleuth in- 
stantly. "Your failure to give me a fair and 
square reply is sufficient. Sage told you. I knew 
he would. Well, I don't care. I've got some- 
thing to tell you now, and, as I said, it will make 
your hair curl." 

He paused impressively, apparently desiring 
Roy to urge him to go on; but Hooker, shrug- 


WOEK OF THE YOUNG DETECTIVE 181 


ging his shoulders a bit, waited the promised rev- 
elation. 

'U want to ask one more question,” said Piper, 
‘'and you’ll not betray a confidence by giving me 
an answer. Saturday, one week ago, while out 
hunting with Sage, you encountered a certain 
mysterious stranger in the woods beyond Culver’s 
Bridge. You talked with the man face to face 
and had a fine opportunity to look him over thor- 
oughly. Tell me, did he bear any personal re- 
semblance to your friend. Sage?” 

“Huh!” grunted Roy. “Resemblance? What 
do you mean?” 

“Did he look as if he might be a relative ?” 

“Why, I — I don’t know. What in the world 
are you trying to get at. Pipe?” 

“That man professed to know the Sages and 
made inquiries about them. Nevertheless, at the 
approach of Fred he ran away, and, although he 
pretended to you that he was looking for work 
hereabouts, as far as I can learn he has not at- 
tempted to obtain employment, and has not been 
publicly seen since that day.” 

“If you have an idea that he was some relative 


182 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 


of the Sages, the mere fact that he has not been 
seen seems to knock your theory into a cocked 
hat;^ 

‘When I place you in full possession of the 
facts,’’ returned Piper, in a lofty and superior 
manner, “you’ll perceive that the man’s care not 
to attract public attention strengthens the foun- 
dations of my theory. You have not answered 
my question. Did he look like Fred Sage?” 

“In some respects he may have borne a slight 
resemblance. He had blue eyes, and Fred’s eyes 
are blue. But that’s nothing. Come across with 
your dope that’s going to make my hair curl.” 

“Doesn’t it occur to you as very singular that 
so little is really known about the past history 
of the Sages ? This family, consisting of father, 
mother and one son, came to Oakdale something 
like three years ago and settled here. Yet who 
is there in this town that can tell where they 
came from and how they happened to come? 
You’re chummy with the before-mentioned son, 
Hooker. How much has he ever told you about 
his past?” 

“Oh, say. Sleuth, if you’re trying to fasten a 


WOEK OF THE YOUNG DETECTIVE 183 


dark and terrible past upon Fred Sage, you’ll do 
nothing but make yourself ridiculous. Why, any- 
body knows that he’s been one of the openest, 
frankest fellows in the world.” 

''Huh! Is that so?” sneered Piper. "Really, 
he may appear to be all that you claim. Hooker, 
but appearances, you should know, are often 
most deceptive. Mr. Andrew Sage has the bear- 
ing of a country gentleman in moderate circum- 
stances. Mrs. Sage is apparently a most esti- 
mable lady. These people are regular church- 
goers, and have the respect of their townsfolk. 
Nevertheless, since living here they have never 
become especially intimate with anyone, and you 
must admit that they are rather reserved.” 

"Aw, rot !” exploded Roy in exasperation. 
"Simply because people don’t choose to go about 
telling everybody their business and all their past 
history, you get the notion that they must have 
some guilty secret they are trying to cover up. 
That comes from reading the kind of trash with 
which you stuff your mind, Piper.” 

"In a very few minutes,” retorted Sleuth, "I’ll 
make it necessary for you to take back some of 


184 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 

your slurs, Mr. Hooker. You know what coun- 
try people are. You know that gossip is one of 
their chief delights. As a rule, let a strange fam- 
ily move into a town like Oakdale, and within 
thirty days more than fifty per cent of the in- 
habitants of that place are conversant with the 
history of those people as far back as it can be 
traced. When the Sages came here the usual 
curious gossips attempted to learn things about 
them. They failed. To me that’s a guarantee 
that the Sages, for good and sufficient reasons, 
desired to keep their family history from being 
probed. This thought has occurred to me more 
than once, and many a time I’ve told myself that 
a little investigation of the before-mentioned 
Sages might prove interesting to a sensational 
degree. Recently I decided to investigate.” 

‘Tn other words, you decided to pry into af- 
fairs which did not concern you in the least. 
Poor business. Piper. The fellow who persists 
in poking his nose into a crack is sure to get it 
pinched some day.” 

Not the least ruffled, Sleuth retorted: ''The 
person who puts himself to extreme trouble to 


WORK OF THE YOUNG DETECTIVE 185 


hide his past must have a guilty secret. Some- 
times there are wolves in sheep’s clothing, and 
for the public weal they should be exposed. In 
order to obtain information regarding the Sages, 
it was necessary to learn where they came from 
when they moved to this town.” 

''And you found out?” 

"Having decided on a course of action, I never 
permit anything to baffle me.” 

"How did you do it ?” 

"Oh, one day I dropped in on Mrs. Sage for 
a little social call. Fred wasn’t home, so I waited 
for him ; and, while waiting, I made myself com- 
fortable, at the lady’s invitation, in the sitting- 
room. I knew there must be in that house some- 
thing which would give me the clue I sought. It 
was not long before I discovered the very thing, 
a family photograph album. While seemingly 
amusing myself by looking at the pictures in that 
album, I slipped several of them from their places 
and looked for the imprint of the photographer. 
There were pictures of Mr. and Mrs. Sage, and 
also of Fred, taken some years ago. Those pic- 
tures, I found, bore the name of a photographer 


186 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


in the town of Rutledge, State of New York. 
I lost little time in writing a letter to the post- 
master of Rutledge, New York, making inquiries 
concerning the Sages. I asked if they had ever 
lived in that town. In case they had, I politely 
requested information concerning the entire fam- 
ily. To insure an answer, I enclosed a stamped 
and addressed envelope.'' 

“And did you get an answer?" 

“Sure," exulted Piper. “I received it to-night. 
I have it in my pocket now. The information it 
contains is of the most sensational character. It 
clears up the mystery of the Sages, and also, I 
firmly believe, fixes the identity of the mysterious 
man you met beyond Culver's Bridge." 


CHAPTER XVIIL 
SIvEUTh'S astonishing theory. 

Curiosity is one of the most powerful traits in 
human nature, and in youth, being to some ex- 
tent unrestrained, it often reaches its highest 
development. It was chiefly curiosity that had 
led Hooker to listen thus far to the words of 
Piper; but now, as if suddenly realizing the full 
significance of Sleuth’s self-confessed and 
shameless prying into the affairs of others, and 
remembering at the same time his familiar and 
friendly relations with Fred Sage, Roy suddenly 
seared his companion with the red-hot iron of 
contempt and wrath. 

''You miserable, sneaking puppy!” he cried. 
"Under pretence of making a friendly call, you 
play a miserable trick like that, do you? Pve a 
mind to give you the finest drubbing you ever 
had.” 

Indeed, so savage and threatening was his at- 
187 


188 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


titude that Piper fell back precipitately, lifting 
his hands as if to ward off a blow. 

''Now you hold on!’’ he cried. "You hold on, 
Hooker! You hadn’t better hit me. Perhaps 
you think that would be a good way to make me 
keep still about what I know concerning the 
Sages. I’m not going to blow this thing round 
to everybody. I chose you because you’re Fred’s 
chum.” 

"Oh, is that so?’’ scoffed Roy incredulously. 
"You’ve begun blabbing with me, and it isn’t 
likely you’ll stop there. I don’t know what 
you’ve found out, but I do know that the way 
you’ve gone about it to obtain your information 
was dirty — just plain dirty.” 

"It was thoroughly legitimate,” asserted 
Sleuth in self-defence. "These people are living 
here in our town and associating with our citi- 
zens. If they’re the right sort, there can be no 
harm in finding out about their past history. But 
perhaps you’ve misunderstood me. Hooker. I’m 
not making the claim that there’s anything 
wrong with the Sages we know.” 

"Oh, aren’t you?” said Roy in surprise. "I 


SLEUTH’S ASTONISHING THEORY 189 


thought you were. If you haven’t found out 
that there’s something wrong about them, what 
the dickens have you found out that was so won- 
derful? What is this sensational thing that’s 
going to make my hair curl ?” 

“If you’ll give me a chance and not get fight- 
ing mad over it, I’ll tell you. You know it’s often 
the case that there’s a black sheep in the most re- 
spectable family.” 

“Huh! There are only three persons in this 
particular family. Where’s the black sheep?” 

“Only three of the family are known at the 
present time to the people of Oakdale,” Piper 
said hastily. “Have you never thought that there 
might be at least one other member of this 
family ?” 

“Can’t say such a thought ever occurred to 
me.” 

“Listen,” urged Sleuth, “and keep your tem- 
per under check until I’m through. The inform- 
ation I’ve obtained does not reflect upon Andrew 
Sage, his wife or his son Fred.” 

“Well,” breathed Roy in relief, “there’s con- 


190 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

siderable satisfaction to be derived from that 
statement/’ 

“The postmaster of Rutledge states that Mr. 
and Mrs. Sage and their younger son, Fred, are 
most estimable people.” 

“Whew!” whistled Hooker. “Their younger 
son, eh?. Oh, do you mean that there’s another 
— another son we don’t know anything about?” 

“There’s another son, of whom we’ve known 
nothing whatever up to the present date. I know 
something about him now, and he’s the black 
sheep. It was the criminal act of this elder son, 
Clarence Sage, that doubtless added many gray 
hairs to his mother’s head and led the family, 
weighted by the shame of it, to leave Rutledge 
and seek another home, where no one would 
know of their disgrace. Now if you don’t care 
to hear any more about the matter,” said Sleuth 
craftily, “I’ll close up.” 

Roy’s aversion to hearing the information 
Piper had secured was completely swept away. 

“Oh, go on,” he invited, once more leaning 
against the bridge rail. “What did this Clarence 
Sage do?” 


SLEUTH’S ASTONISHING THEORY 191 


‘'Robbed a bank/’ 

"In Rutledge?” 

"Yes. He was employed in a bank there, and 
he pilfered fourteen thousand dollars from the 
institution.” 

"Jove!” muttered Hooker. "I don’t wonder 
Fred never has mentioned his brother.” 

"The crime was discovered, as such things al- 
ways are, and Clarence Sage was arrested, tried, 
convicted and sent to Sing Sing for a term of 
years.” 

"My hair curls!” exclaimed Roy. "So Fred 
has a brother in prison. That’s a shame !” 

"He had a brother in prison. Clarence Sage 
isn’t there now.” 

"Oh, his term has expired?” 

"No.” 

"Was he pardoned?” 

"No.” 

"Caesar’s ghost! What happened then? Is 
he dead?” 

"Well,” answered Sleuth, "in my mind, at 
least, there is a doubt at this point. He is sup- 
posed to be dead. With two other prisoners, he 


192 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

broke out of Sing Sing in midwinter and tried 
to escape by crossing the Hudson on the ice. The 
other two convicts were both recaptured. The 
trio had separated immediately after getting out 
of the prison, and neither of the recaptured ras- 
cals knew what had become of Clarence Sage. 
For more than two months detectives sought 
everywhere for Sage, whose apparent success in 
avoiding them was both astonishing and perplex- 
ing. Eventually the body of a man was recov- 
ered from the river, but in such a condition 
that identification was difficult. There were rea- 
sons, however, to believe that the body was that 
of Clarence Sage. Andrew Sage viewed the re- 
mains and decided that it was his recreant son. 
The body was buried in Rutledge, and the grave 
is marked by a stone bearing the name of Clar- 
ence Sage.” 

“Well, then, why do you doubt that he's dead?” 

Piper tapped his forehead. “I believe IVe got 
a little gray matter up here,” he said boastfully. 
“After reading this letter, it took about thirty 
seconds for me to form a theory in which I have 
the utmost confidence. My conviction is that 


SLEUTH’S ASTONISHING THEOEY 193 


Clarence Sage is still alive. I think he did make 
good his escape and succeeded handsomely in 
baffling the offlcers who tried to follow him. The 
body that was taken from the river and buried 
under the name of Clarence Sage was that of 
some other man, as yet unknown. Perhaps it 
will continue to be unknown. When this identi- 
fication and burial had taken place, danger for 
the escaped man was reduced to a minimum. 
Mind you, Fm not making the assertion that An- 
drew Sage knew the body was not that of his 
son, but what would be more natural than for 
him to identify it as such in order to give Clar- 
ence a better chance for freedom? Perhaps, at 
the time, he really believed it to be the unfortu- 
nate young man. Possibly, through some means, 
he has since learned that his son is alive.’’ 

'Hf you hadn’t read so much detective stuff, 
such an improbable idea could not have found 
lodgment in your crazy garret,” said Hooker. 
'T understand you’ve even tried to write stories 
yourself lately. Say, Sleuth, if this matter wasn’t 
so serious, it would be laughable.” 

‘'Your words,” returned Piper, “betray the 


194 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 


narrow limits of your reasoning faculties. Tin 
not basing my suspicions on mere guesswork, 
Hooker.’’ 

'‘Then, for the love of Mike, what do you base 
them on?” 

"One week ago you met a stranger who be- 
haved in a most peculiar manner. Apparently of 
some education and refinement, this man seemed 
to be somewhere near the age of Clarence Sage,^ 
if Sage still lives. He made inquiries of yova^ 
concerning the Sages in Oakdale, and when he 
learned that Fred Sage was approaching he took 
to his heels and got away. He didn’t dare re- 
main to face Fred in your presence. Why, 
Hooker — why? Simply because he knew that in 
his amazement Fred would call him by name and 
give the whole thing away. What do you think 
about that?” 

For a moment or two Roy shook his head. "I 
don’t believe it. It can’t be true. Piper. If that’s 
all you have to base your belief on ” 

"Did there seem to be anything especially 
wrong with Fred last night?” 

"No^ not that I observed.” 


SLEUTH’S ASTONISHING THEOEY 195 


''Well, there surely was something the matter 
with him to-day. Something had happened to 
upset him completely.’^ 

"What do you think it was?” 

"It was something tremendous, or it never 
would have led him to bungle and blunder the 
way he did in that game. It was such a tre- 
mendous thing that he could not get it out of his 
mind so that he might concentrate on the game. 
Whenever he dismissed thoughts of it, he played 
in something like his usual form for a few min- 
utes, but it kept coming back at him and putting 
him on the blink. He denied that he was sick. 
He denied that anything had happened to upset 
him. All this is precisely what would have hap- 
pened had he made the amazing discovery to- 
day that his brother Clarence was alive.” 

"Gee whiz!” breathed Hooker. "ITl own up 
that you’ve got me staggered. If you’re right. 
Piper, you certainly have got a head on your 
shoulders.” 

The darkness masked the smile of satisfaction 
that Sleuth could not repress. 

"You can’t dodge the force of my deductions,” 


196 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

he declared. ''Let me give you a further illus- 
tration of my reasoning ability. As an escaped 
convict, is it likely that Clarence Sage would lead 
an honest life? I admit that he might, but the 
germ of dishonesty must have been virulent in 
his blood, or he, the apparently promising son of 
highly respectable parents, would never have 
committed his first crime. Once a man has taken 
a crooked step, he's almost sure to take others. 
Supposed to be dead. Sage surely traveled under 
a fictitious name. A certain crook, called James 
Wilson and known among his pals as Gentleman 
Jim, bears a strong resemblance to the young 
bank-looter who was sent to Sing Sing. This 
crook was arrested in the town of Harpersville a 
short time ago, but made his escape from the jail, 
nearly killing the guard as he did so. A big 
reward has been offered for Wilson's capture. 
The last peg in my argument is that this Gen- 
tleman Jim is none other than Clarence Sage 
himself." 

"If that should prove to be right," said 
Hooker, "I'll admit that you've got all the detec- 
tives of real life or fiction beaten to a froth." 


CHAPTER XIX. 


rut NIGHT ATARM. 

On Sunday night, or, rather, Monday morn- 
ing, within a few minutes of the hour of three 
(Captain Aaron Quinn afterward swore it was 
at six bells precisely) occurred the explosion 
which, although muffled and faintly heard by 
two persons only, was of sufficient importance to 
shake Oakdale village to its very foundations. 
The only person actually to hear the explosion, 
besides the old sailor, who could not sleep well on 
account of his rheumatism, was Jonas Sylvester, 
the fat and pompous village night-watch. With 
the establishment of the bank the town authori- 
ties had decided that a night guard must be em- 
ployed to patrol the streets, and Sylvester, whose 
qualifications may be summed up briefly by the 
statement that he weighed nearly three hundred 
pounds and had no regular employment, was 
chosen for the job. 


197 


198 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 

With his greatcoat brass-buttoned tightly to 
the chin, Officer Sylvester had paused at the end 
of Main Street bridge, the southern limit of his 
beat, and was stamping his feet and thumping his 
mittened hands together when, as he stated later, 
he heard something like the closing of a distant 
heavy door, which seemed accompanied by a 
slight shock or jarring of the ground. Wonder- 
ing vaguely what it was, and recalling that he 
had heard that earthquakes, however slight, al- 
most always manifested themselves by several 
recurring detonations, Jonas ceased stamping 
and thumping and stood quite still in the muffling 
darkness, his lips parted as he listened. 

“Hokey \” he muttered presently. ^'What was 
it? 'Twasnh thunder, for it's out of season, and 
I'm too fur away to hear a horse kicking up in 
the livery stable. The bank " 

Immediately he started puffingly up the street 
toward the new bank building. 

The clock in the steeple of the Methodist 
church struck three. 

In the meantime. Captain Quinn had been 
further aroused by his monkey. Chattering ex- 


THE NIGHT ALAEM 


199 


citedly, the creature leaped upon the old sailor’s 
breast and began tweaking at his hair. 

''Quit it, ye swab !” rasped the old salt, thrust- 
ing the monkey away. "Back to the fo’cas’le, 
you imp of mischief. Leave me alone, you 
scrub, or I’ll give you a douse of bilge-water.” 

But Jocko refused to be repulsed by his iras- 
cible master. His chattering rose to a squeaking 
shriek as he returned with a bound and gave a 
distressing tug at the captain’s whiskers. 

"Keelhaul me!” roared Quinn, struggling up 
and casting the animal to the floor. "I’ll throw 
you into the hold and keep you under the hatches 
for the rest of the voyage if you try it again, 
you spawn !” 

Even though he now kept beyond his master’s 
reach, the monkey persisted in such a chattering 
uproar and dashed about the dark room in such 
a frantic manner that the wondering man, groan- 
ing at the necessity, hoisted himself out of bed, 
struck a match and looked at the brass-bound 
ship’s clock which hung near at hand upon the 
wall. 

"There’s something the matter,” decided 


200 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

Quinn, dropping the burning match as the flame 
threatened to scorch his fingers. Then, forget- 
ting that he was undressed, from force of habit 
he placed his bare foot upon the match to ex- 
tinguish it. 

The racket made by the monkey was nothing 
in comparison to the roar that broke from the 
lips of the now thoroughly awakened man, and 
had anyone witnessed the tremendous jump 
which Captain Quinn made he would have fan- 
cied the old tar suddenly cured of his rheuma- 
tism. The language which burst in a torrent 
from Quinn’s lips was of a decidedly sulphurous 
nature. 

‘^You imp of the Old Nick!” he bellowed, mak- 
ing a dive and a grab for the elusive monkey. 
'T’ll wring your neck if I get my two hooks on 
it!” 

Jocko, however, bounding over the furniture, 
skimming the length of a shelf, and seeming to 
swing himself along one of the bare walls of the 
room, perched on a window ledge beyond imme- 
diate reach. If possible. Captain Quinn was 


THE NIGHT ALARM 


201 


further aroused and enraged by barking his shins 
upon a chair. 

'‘Furies!’' he breathed. “Where’s my gun? 
I’ll blow a porthole in the hide of that infernal 
pest!” 

As if realizing the peril to his very life, Jocko 
yanked away a mass of old rags which had com- 
pletely filled the opening left by a broken window- 
pane, and darted through the aperture. 

At about this moment Officer Sylvester, has- 
tily approaching the front of the bank, fancied he 
saw a dark figure dart around a corner of the 
building and disappear. Shivering, more from 
excitement and exertion than from the cold, the 
night-watch pursued that shadowy figure, 
weapon in hand. At the back of the building he 
paused, hearing the voice of the old sailor raging 
within the nearby shanty. 

“I s’pose it’s that old fool that’s made the dis- 
turbance,” muttered Jonas doubtfully. “Still, I 
kinder thought I saw something.” 

Producing the electric torch he always carried 
while on duty, he flashed the light around him, 
making almost a complete arc of a circle. Sud- 


202 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


denly the light stopped, bearing full upon an iron- 
barred window in the rear of the bank building, 
and there it hung quivering, revealing to Sylves- 
ter’s bulging eyes a most astounding and dis- 
turbing fact. 

Three of the bars had been cut completely off 
and bent outward, and beyond them an entire 
section of the window glass was missing, leaving 
an opening large enough to admit the body of a 
man. 

Almost paralyzed by this amazing discovery. 
Officer Sylvester felt his thick knees growing 
weak beneath him. 

“Robbers,” he gasped — “robbers, by the jump- 
ing jingoes!” 

That very instant there was a flash in the near- 
by shadows, and, with the report of a pistol, a 
bullet almost grazed the torch in Sylvester’s 
hand. 

The night-watch did not hesitate upon the or- 
der of his going, but went at once. With a yell 
of terror he took to his heels, and his wild shout 
of “Robbers! robbers!” resounded through the' 
main part of the village as he dashed toward the 


THE NIGHT ALAKM 


203 


public square near the post-office. Reaching the 
square, he increased his efforts to arouse the 
townspeople by firing his revolver several times 
into the air. 

'‘Marlin spikes and belaying pins spluttered 
Captain Quinn, still groping for his shotgun. 
"There’s blazes to pay! The monk wasn’t such 
a fool, after all.” 

Presently, gun in hand, he flung open his door 
and stood peering into the night. He could hear 
the courageous night-watch shouting from the 
square and firing his revolver. But what in- 
terested Aaron Quinn far more was the sight 
of two figures which seemed to drop from the 
rear window of the bank and run away into the 
darkness. 

"Shades of Neptune!” said Captain Quinn. 
"It’s piracy on the high seas!” 

Somewhat tardily, he got into action, lifting 
the gun and firing into the darkness which had 
swallowed the fleeing figures. 


CHAPTER XX. 


IN The: bank. 

Naturally, all this shooting and shouting in the 
early hours of the morning was sufficient to 
arouse the villagers. In house after house lights 
began to gleam, and ere long half-dressed men 
were running toward the square, where, still lus- 
tily bellowing, Jonas Sylvester was seeking with 
trembling hands to reload his revolver. Hyde, 
the livery stable keeper, Stickney, the grocer. 
Lawyer Francis and others surrounded the offi- 
cer and demanded to know the meaning of it all. 
Others kept coming from various directions as 
Jonas told what he had discovered at the rear of 
the bank and how nearly he had paid for that 
discovery with his life. 

^^Robbers,’^ cried the livery man — ^Tobbers in 
the bank ? Why didn’t you capture them ?” 

'‘Yes,” demanded the grocer in a high, quav- 
ering falsetto, “why didn’t ye nab ’em? What 
204 


IX THE BANK 


205 


are you doing here? What do we hire ye for?” 

“I tell ye they shot at me,” replied Jonas. 
‘‘They banged right at me, and I couldn't see a 
soul. They had the advantage. Think of my 
size. S'pose I was going to stand still and let 
them pepper me full of bullets?” 

“Fellow citizens,” said the lawyer, who of them 
all seemed to retain the most presence of mind, 
“if there are robbers in the bank they may escape 
while we stand here wasting time in talk. Lead 
the way, Sylvester; we're with you.” 

Thus encouraged, the night-watch took the 
lead, accompanied by the excited crowd. A few 
of the more timid ones either held back or hastily 
returned to their homes to procure weapons. 
Some expressed doubts, declaring their belief 
that Oakdale's nocturnal guardian must be mis- 
taken. 

But a single glance through the front window 
of the bank convinced Lawyer Francis that some- 
thing was wrong there beyond dispute. With a 
word he called attention to the fact that the light 
which burned by night in front of the vault had 
been extinguished. 


206 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 

'‘Show us that winder/' commanded Hyde, 
pushing Sylvester forward. 

“Yes, show us the winder," tremulously urged 
Stickney, falling back until nearly all of the 
crowd were ahead of him. 

“Git ready for a bloody encounter," warned 
the night-watch. “They’re desperate men, and 
they’ll fight to the last gasp." 

“We’ll find there are no robbers in the bank 
now," said the lawyer; “and all this uproar has 
sent them scampering long before this." 

As they were hurrying round to the rear of the 
building a voice roared at them through the 
darkness. 

“Avast there, you lubbers !" it shouted. 
“You’re too late for action. The scoundrels 
hoisted anchor and made sail long ago. By this 
time they’re running before the wind under full 
canvas." 

The old sailor came hobbling swiftly toward 
them, bearing his gun, his cane forgotten for 
the time being. 

“Did you see them, Quinn?" asked Lawyer 
Francis. 


m THE BANK 


207 


“I did that,” was the prompt answer. put 
my lamps on them just as they got under full 
headway, and Fll swear I hurried them some 
with a double charge of buckshot.” 

'‘You fired at them?” 

"Both barrels at once, and it’s a mercy if I 
ain’t got a busted shoulder to pay for it. The 
old gun near kicked my head off, confound it !” 

"How many of them were there? How many 
did you see ?” 

"It’s dungeon dark a’most, but I’m certain sure 
I saw two, at least.” 

"Mebbe some of you thought I was lying or a 
fool,” cried Officer Sylvester triumphantly. 
"Now I guess you’ll change your tune. Here’s 
the winder. Just look at it.” 

The electric torch was again turned on the cut 
and bended bars, and the group of men pressed 
forward, staring and exclaiming. 

"Which way did the robbers flee, Quinn?” 
questioned Lawyer Francis, grasping the old 
sea captain’s arm. 

"Back that way toward Middle Street,” was 
the answer. 


208 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

"‘They must not escape/' said the lawyer. 
“They haven't obtained much of a start. Let 
every man arm himself and take up the search. 
Deputy Sheriff Pickle and Constable Hubbard 
must be notified at once. They must organize 
posses and scour the country. Will you see to it 
that this is done, Sylvester?" 

“Yes, your honor," assured the night-watch. 

At this moment a citizen joined the group and 
announced that Lucius Timmick, the bank 
cashier, had arrived and was about to unlock the 
bank door. This information led Lawyer Fran- 
cis to hasten back to the front of the building, 
where, pushing his way through the rapidly in- 
creasing crowd, he reached Timmick as the lat- 
ter finally found his key and inserted it in the 
lock. 

Doubtless fearful of entering, the cashier hesi- 
tated a bit even after the key had thrown the 
bolt. 

“I'll accompany you, Mr. Timmick," said the 
lawyer. “I think you need have no fear of en- 
countering any of the rascals within. They have 
all fled." 


m THE BANK 


209 


''Thank you, Mr. Francis,” said Timmick, his 
voice husky and not quite under control. "Doubt- 
less you are right, but I think it best that I should 
have a few reputable citizens with me when I 
investigate.” 

"Fm here, Timmick; Fm with you,” encour- 
aged Stickney, the grocer, boldly jabbing his way 
through the crowd with his sharp elbows. 
'‘You’ll find me ready to back you up if you need 
assistance.” His courage had revived amazingly 
with the assurance that the robbers had fled. 

Rufus Sprague, the jeweler, and Lemuel Hay- 
den, a leading business man, both of whom were 
directors of the bank, were on hand, and with 
those four citizens at his back the cashier opened 
the door. Others who were inclined to crowd in 
were commanded to stand back, but one there 
was who, crouching low, slipped in unobserved 
and congratulated himself over his cleverness as 
he heard the door relocked. This was Sleuth 
Piper. 

Timmick’s hand found the button and turned 
on the electric lights. Then he opened the door 


210 THE GKEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 


in the grating-guarded partition, beyond which 
was located the bank vault. 

An odor like that of a burnt explosive per- 
vaded the atmosphere of the place, and increased, 
if possible, the tingling excitement of the men 
who pressed after the cashier, eager to learn just 
what had happened. What they now beheld 
caused them to gasp with dismay. 

A number of full sacks of grain had been 
placed on the floor in front of the bank vault. 
This grain had doubtless been brought in the 
sacks from the old feed mill, a quarter of a mile 
away; and the full sacks had been skilfully ar- 
ranged in such a position that the outer door of 
the vault, blown from its hinges, had fallen upon 
them. A leather grip stood open upon the floor, 
and scattered about on all sides could be seen a 
full set of up-to-date burglar’s tools. 

“Look,” cried Timmick, aghast, pointing with 
a trembling finger — “look at that, gentlemen! 
Oh, the scoundrels!” 

Outside, the crowd, with noses pressed against 
the cold plate glass of the big front window. 


IN THE BANK 


^11 


could see everything, and the sound of their agi- 
tated voices reached the ears of those within. 

^^The bank’s been robbed !” cried Stickney. 
‘‘The critters must have done it in a hurry.” 

“I don’t think it has been robbed,” said Law- 
yer Francis. “The inner door of the vault re- 
mains in place. The burglars were detected at 
their work before they could complete the job.” 

“Let us hope,” said Lemuel Hayden grimly, 
“that you are right, sir.” 

“Open that inside door, Timmick — open it!” 
spluttered Rufus Sprague. “Let’s find out if 
they got anything.” 

But the cashier shook his head. “I think, gen- 
tlemen,” he said, “we had better wait until the 
president arrives. When I open that door I wish 
to do so in the presence of Mr. Eliot. At any 
rate, I think it would not be advisable to go ahead 
beneath the watching eyes of that crowd outside 
the window. Mr. Stickney, will you draw the 
shade ?” 

“Yep, I will,” said Stickney, rejoicing with a 
feeling of high importance over the fact that he 
was one of those who had obtained admission to 


212 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


the bank. ^‘Whether the robbers got anything 
or not, it will be just as well to proceed with our 
investigation in private.'' 

Hurrying to the window, he drew the shade, 
greatly to the disappointment of the gathered 
watchers, some of whom expressed their feel- 
ings with considerable emphasis. 

There was one person, however, who was not 
thus deprived of further knowledge of what was 
taking place within the bank. In the shadows of 
the patrons' side of the cashier window. Sleuth 
Piper congratulated himself again. 


CHAPTER XXL 


WHAT ShtUTU TEARN^D. 

The excited chattering of the crowd in front 
of the bank was broken in upon by the harsh 
voice of Captain Quinn. 

‘'Ahoy, you blatherskites !'’ cried the old sailor, 
appearing upon the edge of the gatherings 
“Stow that jabber a minute and tell me if you've 
put your peepers on my monkey. The little 
whelp has run away, and he'll freeze to death 
unless I find him. It would break my heart if 
anything should happen to my monkey." 

This statement aroused some laughter and pro- 
voked a few jeers. 

“Go crawl into your bunk, you old pirate," ad- 
vised one of the younger men. “ It would be a 
good thing if your monkey did freeze. The town 
wouldn't miss it — or you, either." 

“Take twenty years off my shoulders," snarled 
the old tar, “and I'd lay you by the heels for that, 
213 


214 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 

you swab! You talk bold and sassy to a man 
three times your age and crippled with the rheu- 
matics, but Tve scrubbed the deck of my ves- 
sel with dozens of your kind in my day/' 

^'Everybody knows that, you old man-han- 
dler," was the retort. ‘'You've cracked the skull 
of more than one better man, but the law pro- 
tected you because you were the master and they 
were nothing but common sailors. Oh, we know 
you here in Oakdale." 

“Yes, and I know you, the whole common 
crew of ye. You're brave as dogfish chasing 
po'gies until you spy a shark, and then you run 
and hide. What are ye doing here? Why ain't 
ye off with the men that's trying to run down the 
burglars? You're afraid. There's not one of 
ye's got the courage of a squid." 

“If you weren't so old," said one of the wrathy 
listeners, “we'd be handing you a taste of your 
own high-sea methods before you could say half 
as much." 

“Never mind my age," bellowed Quinn, squar- 
ing away. “Come try it, any one of ye or the 
whole crew together. You'll find it a bit lively 


WHAT SLEUTH LEAENED 


215 


while it lasts, or my name is not Aaron Quinn. 
Hoist anchor, you blackguards. Up with your 
sails, and come at me with every stitch set. 
What’s the matter, you lubbers — what’s the mat- 
ter? Why don’t you come on? Afraid, eh? — 
afraid of old Aaron Quinn ! A bold lot you are ! 
You can wag your tongues loud and talk bold, 
but not one of ye has as much gizzard as a 
chicken. Bah !” 

With a derisive gesture, he disdainfully turned 
his back upon them and slowly moved off into the 
darkness, seeming deaf to their jeers and cat- 
calls. 

A few minutes later Urian Eliot appeared, 
made his way through the throng that respect- 
fully stepped aside from his path, and was ad- 
mitted to the bank. The door had not long been 
closed behind the president when it opened again, 
for Stickney, the grocer, whose manner as he 
came out betrayed that he was leaving the place 
with great reluctance and much against his will. 

''How is it, Stickney?” called one of the gath- 
ering. "Did the robbers get anything, or were 
they frightened away?” 


216 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


''Huh!’' grunted the grocer, standing on the 
steps. "I don’t know. They waited for Eliot 
before they opened the inner door of the vault, 
and when he came he proposed, as I didn’t hap- 
pen to be a director or some high muckamuck 
connected with the bank, that I should leave. 
And I was one who risked his life to follow Tim- 
mick into that place, not knowing but we might 
have to face desperate burglars armed to the 
very teeth. That’s the way they treat a fellow 
citizen who is ready to shed his blood for them. 
But what can you expect of men who try to run 
a bank in these days without a night watchman 
of their own ? That’s their idea of economy, per- 
haps, but it will be a mercy if it hasn’t proved ex- 
pensive economy. They take our money in trust 
and then fail to give it proper protection. Tim- 
mick refused to touch the inner door until Eliot 
came. Perhaps it was unlocked. It wouldn’t 
surprise me to learn that the bank had been 
cleaned out of every dollar and every scrap of 
security it contained. I have an account here 
myself; seventy-nine dollars balance, too. If 
there has been a robbery, somebody will have to 


WHAT SLEUTH LEAKNED 217 

make good. They can afford it, men like Eliot 
and Hayden and the others ; but I can't afford to 
lose it." 

His resentment seemed contagious, and there 
were others who began murmuring about the 
bank officials. But, for the most part, those who 
talked loudest had small accounts with the insti- 
tution or none at all. 

‘What have they done about catching the 
scoundrels?" asked Stickney. “They ought to 
have 'em by this time." 

He was told that armed squads were searching 
for the cracksmen, although there had been no 
reports of a capture. 

“Oh, they'll let 'em get away. I'll guarantee," 
sneered the grocer. “I was opposed to the hir- 
ing of a night-watch by the town. I said it would 
be an extravagant waste of money, and this night 
proves I was right." 

“Only for him," reminded some one, “the rob- 
bers might have finished the job and got off with- 
out an alarm being raised. Likely nobody would 
ever known it till the bank was opened at nine 
o'clock." 


218 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


'‘He might have nabbed ’em, instead of run- 
ning away and hollering like a loon,” asserted 
Stickney. “He had the chance. If I’d been in 
his place. I’d potted the whole bunch. Now it’s 
doubtful if any one of ’em is caught. Well, I’m 
going home to get a little rest before breakfast.” 
Apparently it did not occur to the courageous 
grocer that he might be of service by joining one 
of the searching parties. 

It was growing light and a curious throng still 
lingered in front of the bank hoping to learn if a 
robbery had actually taken place, when the door 
of the building opened again, and this time Sleuth 
Piper was thrust forth with such violence that 
he was saved from sprawling on the sidewalk 
only by the quick hand of a man who stood on the 
lower step. 

“Hello, Piper,” said this man, gazing at him 
in astonishment. “How did you get in there?” 

“’Sh!” hissed Sleuth, pulling away. “Never 
mind, never mind. In pursuance of my duty, I 
am liable to be found anywhere. Had they given 
me a little time, I might have imparted some in- 
formation of tremendous moment. But let them 


WHAT SLEUTH LEAENED 


219 


go on. Let them work in the dark. They will 
need me yet.” 

‘‘Tell us, has the bank been robbed?” 

“They are now going over the contents of the 
vault,” was the boy's evasive reply. “ITl not 
forestall their report by a premature statement.” 

Some one pulled at his sleeve, and, looking 
around, he saw Roy Hooker. Willingly he fol- 
lowed Roy, who led the way to the rear of the 
bank, where at least a dozen men were gathered 
outside the window by which the robbers had ob- 
tained entrance. 

“You beat the Dutch, Pipe,” said Roy, in a 
manner bordering on respect. “How the deuce 
did you ever get in there?” 

Piper explained, taking to himself abundant 
credit for quick thought, rapidity of action and 
amazing cleverness in keeping concealed once he 
had slipped inside. 

“Well, what did you learn, anyhow?” ques- 
tioned Hooker. “Did you find out anything, or 
did you waste your time ?” 

“I never waste my time,” retorted Sleuth with 
dignity. “It was through my natural desire to 


220 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

learn all that could be learned that I was de- 
tected and ejected. At the present moment the 
officers of the bank are in the directors’ room at 
the rear, going over the securities. There’s a 
door leading from that room into the outside cor- 
ridor, and, in order to hear and see, I had to open 
that door. They closed it once, but I opened it 
again on a crack, and that aroused the suspi- 
cions of Rufus Sprague, who stepped out quickly 
and nabbed me. Then, refusing to listen, they 
chucked me outside. I was ready to throw a 
bombshell into their midst, but I’m glad now that 
I was restrained from action.” 

'What did you propose to tell them, Sleuth?” 

'Tt was on the tip of my tongue to advise them 
to look for a certain party known as 'James Wil- 
son,’ alias 'William Hunt,’ alias 'Philip Hast- 
ings,’ alias 'Gentleman Jim,’ and furthermore and 
finally, alias Clarence Sage.” 

"Then you fancy ” 

"Fancy, Hooker? Nay, sir, this is no case of 
guesswork; I know what I’m about. Doubtless 
Sage is as far from Oakdale as his feet could 


WHAT SLEUTH LEAENED 231 

carry him in the time since the would-be robbers 
fled/’ 

‘‘The would-be robbers!” echoed Roy. “Then 
they really didn’t get anything?” 

“Right there,” said Sleuth, “you touch the one 
point that as yet remains inexplicable to me. The 
inner door of the vault apparently has not been 
broken open by the burglars. It was unlocked 
by Timmick in the presence of Urian Eliot and 
the directors. They removed cash and securities 
to that back room for investigation. At first 
everything seemed undisturbed and they were 
congratulating themselves, when the discovery 
was made that a package of securities amounting 
to twenty thousand dollars was missing.” 

“Gee!” gasped Hooker. “Then there zvas a 
robbery. But how can it be possible, if the inner 
door of the vault had not been opened?” 

In the gray light of the morning a wise and 
significant smile flickered across Piper’s face. 

“There’s but one explanation,” he answered, 
“The men who tried to rob the bank last night 
did not get those securities. They were stolen 
at some previous time.” 


CHAPTER XXII. 


FOI.LOWING TH^ TRAIL. 

'^Gee whiz V exclaimed Hooker, astonished. 
“Who stole them?’’ 

“That question,” admitted Sleuth, “I’m not 
ready to answer at present. I’ll focus my mar- 
velous discerning intellect upon it after the 
would-be bank robbers are securely in limbo. I’ll 
guarantee that the posses searching for them are 
rushing hither and thither without rhyme, rea- 
son or system. That’s no way to hunt the scoun- 
drels down. Of course they may blunder upon 
the fugitives by accident, but the trail should be 
taken up and followed in a scientific manner.” 

“That’s easy enough to talk about,” said Roy; 
“but, without the aid of bloodhounds, how is it 
to be done?” 

“To begin with, we know they fled in this di- 
rection, for old Quinn saw them running from 
the back of the bank and fired at them. They 
222 


FOLLOWING THE TEAIL 223 

must have reached Middle Street a short distance 
away. It was impossible to follow their tracks 
in the dark, but it’s now daylight, and I’m going 
to try to pick up the trail.” 

“A fine job you’ll do at that,” scoffed the other 
boy. ''Even if you should find their tracks, you’d 
need the skill of an Injun to follow ’em.” 

"We’ll see,” said Piper — "we’ll see about that. 
There’s a cedar hedge running from Main Street 
to Willow, and any person who dashed through 
that hedge at full speed must have left some 
tokens.” 

"Let’s examine the hedge.” 

In less than a minute Piper found a place 
where the branches of the trimmed cedars were 
bent and broken. He pointed at it exultantly. 

"There’s where one of them went through,” 
he declared. 

"Perhaps it’s where some one, hurrying to the 
bank, came in from the other direction.” 

"Use your eyes. Hook. The manner in which 
the cedars are twisted and bent shows that the 
person who passed through the hedge came from 
this direction, and he was in a hurry, too. Look 


224 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

here! What’s this, Roy? It’s blood — blood on 
the bushes!” 

No wonder Roy’s eyes bulged as he beheld the 
slight bloodstain at which his companion pointed 
with a triumphant finger. 

‘‘Blood!” he muttered. “Why, then ” 

“Old Quinn hit one of them, no question about 
it. There’s a wounded bank-breaker fleeing for 
his life somewhere.” 

Both lads were now greatly excited, although 
Sleuth fought hard to maintain such an air of 
coolness as he fancied would well become a great 
detective. 

“By this trail of blood we’ll track him. 
Hooker,” he said. “If we capture one of the 
rascals, perhaps he will squeal on his pals.” 

“If we capture him!” spluttered Roy. “What 
are you talking about? Do you think we could 
do it alone? He’s a desperate man, and he’d 
fight ” 

“Are you armed?” 

“No.” 

“Well, I am,” said Sleuth, displaying a small 
revolver. “It’s too bad you have no weapon, but, 


FOLLOWING THE TRAIL 


225 


nevertheless, you may be of great assistance in 
capturing the man. If you’ve got nerve enough 
to stick by me, we’ll try to run him down.” 

‘'Hadn’t we better get others? Do you think 
we ought to try it alone ?” 

“If we call for assistance,” said Sleuth, “and 
the man is actually captured, we’ll have to share 
the reward with others. You know there’s a 
large reward offered for the apprehension of the 
man known as Gentleman Jim, and it’s not im- 
possible that the fellow who was winged by 
Aaron Quinn is Gentleman Jim himself. If we 
take him, just you and I, we can whack up on 
that reward money. I’ll agree to give you a fair 
share, providing you stand by me through thick 
and thin.” 

“You’ve certainly got a nerve. Piper, to think 
of trying such a thing. I don’t know about it, 
myself.” 

“Oh, well, if you’re scared,” said Sleuth, with 
no attempt to suppress his scorn, “I’ll go it alone. 
I thought you had more sand. Hook.” 

“Well, nobody around here has ever figured 
that you were running over with sand, yourself,” 


226 THE GKEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 

was the resentful retort. guess IVe got as 
much as you have. Go ahead and see what you 
can do at this job of trailing.’" 

Forcing their way through the hedge, they 
reached Middle Street, where for a moment 
Piper hesitated, as if considering the probable 
course the fugitive had taken. 

''About the time the man got here,” he said, 
"Jonas Sylvester was waking people up by his 
yells and shouts from the square in front of the 
post-office. Under such circumstances, fearing 
to encounter some citizen of the town who had 
been aroused by Sylvester, the fleeing man would 
avoid the streets as far as possible. I should say 
he kept straight across the road here and struck 
across lots for High Street.” 

"Guesswork,” said Hooker. 

"Deduction, reasoning, sound judgment,” 
flung back Sleuth, as he hurried to examine the 
top rail of the old slat fence upon the northern 
side of the street; "and here’s my proof — a 
smooch of blood where the man grasped the rail 
as he vaulted over the fence.” 


FOLLOWING THE TRAIL 227 

^^Jinks breathed Roy, gazing at the sanguine 
mark. "'You’re right ; it’s there.” 

Beyond the fence Piper continued northward, 
bending forward that he might search the 
ground with his eyes. Again and again he 
pointed to frozen blood-drippings upon the grass, 
and, at Sleuth’s heels, Roy felt his pulse throb- 
bing with a touch of the fierce excitement that 
invariably seizes upon one who hunts fleeing men. 
For the first time in his life he was beginning to 
believe that Piper had been underestimated by 
those who had scoffed at his ambition to become 
a great detective. 

Across High Street and into the neglected, old- 
fashioned horse sheds at the rear of the Metho- 
dist church the two boys followed the trail. In 
one of those sheds there was a little pool of blood, 
surrounded by similar drippings, at which 
Hooker stared in great fascination. 

"He stopped here,” asserted Sleuth. "Con- 
cealed by the darkness, he hid in this shed for 
some little time. Perhaps he was led to do this 
through exhaustion caused by the wound. Per- 


228 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


haps he did so because he heard citizens run- 
ning down Main Street toward the bank/’ 

''Gee!” said Roy, giving himself a shake. "If 
he’s hurt bad, we’re liable to come on him any 
minute. Why, we might have found him here, 
and perhaps he’d filled us full of lead. It’s tick- 
lish business. Pipe.” 

"He won’t be liable to fight unless cornered, 
and if we corner him we must get him foul so he 
can’t pot us. Come on; time is precious.” 

As if the flow from the wound had been partly 
staunched, the trail now became decidedly more 
difficult to follow. Nevertheless, Sleuth traced 
it to upper Main Street, some distance below the 
home of Urian Eliot. There it again led across 
the road and into the broad fields beyond. 
Through the midst of these fields ran a tiny 
brook, the banks of which were lined by scat- 
tering clumps of bushes. Here the brown grass 
was rather tall, and the boys followed the man’s 
tracks with little difficulty. At the point where 
the fugitive had started to cross the brook a clay 
bank some three feet in height had caved beneath 
his feet. 


FOLLOWING THE TEAIL 


229 


took a tumble here/" said Piper. “There’s 
where he got on his pins again. See his tracks, 
Hook?” 

The prints of the man’s feet were plainly to 
be seen, and, it being no more than a foot wide at 
that point, he had crossed the brook at a stride. 
On the western side the trail again led north- 
ward, and before long the boys paused within 
plain sight of the house of the Sages. 

“Ah! ha!” breathed Sleuth, with an intona- 
tion of deep exultation. “Now you can see what 
he was doing. I’m sorry indeed for our mutual 
friend, Fred Sage; but duty is duty, and we must 
not falter.” 

“It does look as if he made straight for the 
Sages’ place,” admitted Roy. 

“No question about it,” nodded Sleuth, grasp- 
ing his companion’s arm and drawing him back. 
“Let’s preserve proper caution. We might be 
seen.” 

“I don’t see anyone stirring around the place.” 

“No, but you can see that the front door of 
the stable is standing open a bit. That door was 
not left thus all night long, you can bet on it” 


230 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 

''1 suppose they were woke up by the racket/^ 

^‘But why should they go to the stable? If 
we locate our man there, Hooker, ITl stay and 
keep watch while you go for the officers/’ 
don’t see how we’re going to ” 

'We’ll have to retreat a distance, cross the 
road out of sight of the house and approach the 
buildings from the rear. That’s the proper 
trick.” 

Hooker did not attempt an argument; he left 
the maneuver to be carried through by Sleuth, 
whom he continued to follow without proffering 
advice. 

Crouching low when the road was reached, 
they darted across it, one after the other, circling 
until they could approach the stable of the Sages 
from the rear. To their surprise, they perceived 
that the small back door of the building also 
stood open. Their nerves taut and tingling, they 
presently found themselves beside that door, 
where, with one hand on his pistol and the other 
upheld as a signal for caution. Piper listened in- 
tently. 

"Can you hear anything?” whispered Roy. 


FOLLOWING THE TEAIL 


231 


admitted Sleuth, ^^nothing that seems sig- 
nificant to me. Fm going to look in. Keep still.’’ 

Thrusting his head forward, he peered into 
the gloomy interior of the building. After a few 
glances, reaching backward without turning, he 
beckoned for the other lad to follow, and en- 
tered, walking on his toes. 

They were in the very center of the stable floor 
when a sudden stamping and a snort caused them 
both to leap backward. Piper jerking up the hand 
in which his nickle-plated revolver quivered trem- 
ulously. After a moment he drew a breath of 
relief, turning a pallid face toward Roy as he 
explained in a whisper : 

^^Nothing but their cow in the tie-up yonder.” 

‘‘Thunder !” sighed Sleuth’s companion. “She 
gave me an awful start. Don’t look like we’ll 
find anything here. Pipe.” 

“Wait. I have a theory into which I’ve been 
led by the sight of the open doors, but it’s best 
to proceed carefully and not overlook anything.” 

Ten seconds later, not five feet from the 
slightly opened front doors. Piper discovered 
something that added in no small degree to his 


232 THE GKEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 

self-esteem. Upon the floor near a small grain 
box was a pool of blood, and beside that pool he 
perceived some shreds like ravellings from a torn 
cloth. 

‘'Our man was here, Hooker,’’ he said. 

'Was here?” muttered Roy. “Then you think 
he’s gone?” 

“I think his injury was bound up right here in 
this stable while he sat there upon that box. I 
don’t believe he did the work of bandaging the 
wound himself.” 

“He must be in the house.” 

“Don’t jump at conclusions. That’s the trou- 
ble with most people. That’s how they lead 
themselves astray. The fellow came here. He 
must have been pretty badly used up, too. Some- 
body tied up his injuries. Isn’t it likely they 
realized the man would be traced by the blood- 
drippings? And is it likely, in that case, that 
they would think of trying to hide him here?” 

“Why, I don’t know ” 

“I don’t know, but I’m using logic, reasoning, 
horse sense. I saw something as we entered by 
that open back door which makes me confident 


FOLLOWING THE TRAIL 233 

that the fellow continued his flight in that direc- 
tion. Beyond the . orchard, out there, lie the 
woods to the north of Turkey Hill.'’ 

“You think he hit out for those woods, do 
you ?" 

“I think so, but unless I can find evidence to 
confirm my belief we'll not try to follow him 
haphazard." 

They left the stable by the door through which 
they had entered, and when they were outside 
Sleuth once more fell to searching the ground 
with his eyes. 

“Tracks!" he muttered. “There were two of 
them — two of them! And here's the proof that 
our man was one !" 

He picked up a lump of half frozen clay which 
plainly had fallen from the boot of a man. It 
was the sort of clay into which the fugitive had 
slumped when the brook bank gave way beneath 
his feet. 

“You're a wonder. Pipe," declared Roy, his 
admiration unrestrained at last. 

“Spare the compliments," said Sleuth briskly. 
“We’re off again." 


2S4: THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 


The trail led through the orchard, beyond 
which it was plain enough in the hoarfrost which 
covered the ground. 

‘'And these tracks weren’t made so long ago, 
either,” asserted Piper. “It won’t be so easy to 
follow them after we get into the woods. Too 
bad.” 

In truth, it was not an easy matter, and they 
were proceeding with exasperating slowness 
when of a sudden Piper whirled and clutched his 
companion, exclaiming in a hoarse whisper: 

“Hark! Some one coming! Get to cover. 
Hooker — lively !” 

Near by was a fallen tree. Sleuth cleared it 
with a bound, flinging himself down behind the 
thick trunk. His example was followed by Roy, 
and there, amid a mass of leaves which the wind 
had swept into a little hollow, they knelt, peer- 
ing over the fallen tree. 

Barely were they thus hidden when another 
boy came crashing at a run through some bushes 
and appeared in full view. 

It was Fred Sage ! 


CHAPTER XXIIL 


the: capture:. 

Fred was panting, his clothes were torn, and 
his manner that of one overwrought with tre- 
mendous excitement. He had come from the 
deeper woods to the north of Turkey Hill, and 
was plainly hurrying homeward as fast as his 
feet would carry him. 

Crouching behind the fallen tree, the two boys 
gazed in astonishment at Sage as he passed them. 
They could hear his panting breath and see his 
breast heaving, and into the minds of both leaped 
the strange thought that only for his exertions 
his face would have been ghastly pale. There 
was a wild expression in his eyes, like that of a 
person in great fear. 

Hooker remained kneeling, petrified, but Piper 
partly rose, his lips open, as if he thought of 
shouting to the running lad. If this was his in- 
tention, however, he changed his mind, not ut- 
235 


236 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


taring as much as a whisper, and stood staring 
after the hurrying boy, the crashing sounds of 
whose movements could be heard for some mo- 
ments following his disappearance. Presently 
those sounds died out and silence fell upon the 
woods. 

Shaking off his lethargy. Hooker rose. 
'Well,” he breathed, "what have you got to say 
about that. Pipe?” 

Sleuth’s forehead was puckered in a momen- 
tary frown. Before answering, he climbed to the 
bole of the tree and stepped down on the other 
side, Roy following. 

"It simply confirms my theory,” announced 
Piper. "Fred is badly scared. Somewhere yon- 
der in these woods he lately parted from his 
brother,, who is wounded and a fugitive from 
justice. That’s quite enough to put Fred’s nerves 
on the blink.” 

"But why is he running for home that 
fashion?” 

"For one reason, he doesn’t wish to be seen 
here in the woods by anyone searching for the 
bank robbers. For another reason, he must re- 


THE CAPTUEE 


237 


member that there is a telltale pool of blood on 
the floor of his father’s stable, every trace of 
which I’ll guarantee will soon be removed after 
Fred gets home.” 

guess you’re right,” admitted Roy regret- 
fully. ‘H’m sorry about this business — mighty 
sorry.” 

‘1, too, am sorry for Sage,” nodded Piper; 
"‘but in matters like this, where justice and the 
rights of peaceable citizens are involved, senti- 
ment must be put aside.” 

“Fred’s a good fellow,” muttered Hooker. 
“We’ve been pretty chummy.” 

“Of course he’s a good fellow; nobody dis- 
putes that.” 

“But to think he has such a brother !” 

“That’s his misfortune, not his fault.” 

“And he’s trying to help the fellow escape.” 

“You’d dp the same under similar circum- 
stances, so don’t condemn him. But while we’re 
gabbing here the fugitive is getting farther 
away. Of course, if he’s badly hurt, as it seems 
he must be, he can’t cover ground as fast as he 
otherwise might.” 


238 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

‘We can’t find him in these woods; we might 
as well give up that idea.” 

“And give up all hope of copping the reward !” 
exclaimed Sleuth. “Not I. The slope of Tur- 
key Hill isn’t far away, and from it we can get 
a good view of the swamp and the woods. Per- 
haps we’ll see something of the fellow by climb- 
ing up there. Anyhow, it won’t take us far out 
of our course, if we’re going to make for that 
old camp in the swamp, in which I fancy our 
man, at Fred’s suggestion, may try to hide. 
Don’t quit. Come on.” 

For a short distance Sleuth sought to retrace 
the trail made by Fred Sage while hurrying 
homeward, but this was so slow and exasperat- 
ing that presently he abandoned the effort and 
made straight for Turkey Hill. There the boys 
pantingly climbed the first steep slope, soon ar- 
riving at a clearing upon the hillside where the 
timber had been cut away, leaving an expanse of 
unsightly stumps. 

“From this spot,” reminded Piper, “Spotty 
Davis was seen when he shot Berlin Barker’s 
hound. Use your eyes. Hooker. See if you can 


THE CAPTUKE 


239 


discover anyone moving in the woods or the open 
places down yonder/’ 

For some moments they searched the lower ex- 
panse of woods and clearings with their eyes. 

'H don’t see a thing,” muttered Roy presently. 

‘H don’t believe we’ll be able to ” 

'Xook at those crows yonder,” interrupted 
Sleuth, flinging out his hand. 

Some distance away, near the base of the hill 
to the westward, a number of crows had sud- 
denly risen into the air, cawing wildly. 

'We’re not hunting for crows,” reminded 
Hooker. 

"I’ve studied the habits of those birds,” as- 
serted the amateur detective, "and I’ll guaran- 
tee they’ve been suddenly alarmed by something 
moving in the woods near by. Hear them caw- 
ing? Take it from me, they are shouting in 
crow language : 'Man ! man ! Here’s a man !’ ” 
"Oh, rot. Piper! You may be pretty wise 

about some things, but ” 

''There he is!” rasped Sleuth, suddenly seizing 
his companion’s arm and pointing with the other 


^40 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

hand. saw him — I saw him run across a lit- 
tle opening! He's coming back this way, too!" 

'Why — why should he do that?" wondered 
the bewildered Hooker. 

"Because, in all probability, he has discovered 
a posse of searchers over yonder. He has been 
compelled to double back on his tracks. We may 
be able to cut him off if we hustle." 

Without waiting to see if Roy followed. Piper 
ran down across the clearing, dodging hither and 
thither to avoid the stumps, and plunged once 
more into the woods, setting a course calculated 
to intercept the fleeing man. Once more he had 
drawn his revolver, which he carried in his hand 
as he ran. 

Roy followed instinctively, although it must be 
confessed that he had little relish for an encoun- 
ter with a desperate criminal fleeing from man- 
hunters. Sleuth was buoyed by excitement and a 
sort of fictitious courage, which, possibly, might 
desert him in a twinkling when the decisive mo- 
ment came. On through the woods he darted, 
turning hither and thither to avoid the denser 
thickets. His ears told him that Roy was com- 


THE CAPTURE 


241 


ing, and that was sufficient. Dead branches 
snapped beneath their flying feet ; in places fallen 
leaves were scattered with a swish and a rustle; 
once or twice both lads felt their heart-strings 
tug as they glimpsed black tree trunks, any one 
of which for a moment might have been mistaken 
for a man. 

Suddenly they burst out into a rocky bit of pas- 
ture land, through which ran a deep gully. And 
there, not thirty rods away, was the man! 

Evidently warned by the sounds they had made 
while running through the woods, he was look- 
ing toward them when they appeared, and in 
every respect his bearing was that of a creature 
hunted and nearly cornered. 

''Stop!'’ cried Sleuth, lifting the revolver and 
halting so suddenly that Hooker nearly bumped 
against him. "Throw up your hands!” 

Instead of obeying, the man turned toward the 
gully and made a desperate attempt to leap across 
it. Beneath his feet the ground gave way, and 
the boys saw him disappear with one arm out- 
flung, as if he had fruitlessly clutched at the 
empty air. 


243 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 

''Jerusalem!’' burst from Roy’s lips. "He’s 
gone !” 

"And if that tumble doesn’t bump him some, 
I’m mistaken,” said Sleuth. "We can get him 
before he recovers.” 

Nevertheless, he exhibited a certain amount of 
caution and apprehension as he reached the gully 
and peered into it. 

"He may shoot,” called Hooker, holding back 
discreetly. 

"Not he,” exulted Sleuth. "Here he is I Come 
on; we’ve got him!” 

With seeming recklessness. Piper slid down 
into the gully, still gripping his revolver in his 
right hand. 

"I never thought it of him,” said Roy, aghast 
—"never!” 

A moment later, peering downward, he saw the 
other boy bending over the body of a man who 
lay amid some rocks at the bottom of the gully. 

"Come down,” called Piper chokingly, his 
voice husky and shaking with excitement. 
"We’ve got him cold! He was knocked out, 
stunned by that fall.” 



“ HERE HE IS ! 


COME ON; we’ve got HIM ! ” 

— Page 242. 






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THE CAPTURE 


24:3 


Hooker, his courage reviving, descended into 
the gully, bringing down with him a small mass 
of loose earth and stones. He found Piper go- 
ing through the pockets of the unconscious man. 

''Here,’’ said Sleuth, passing over an automatic 
pistol, ^Take this thing. Hook. Wedl render him 
helpless by disarming him so that he can’t do 
much when he comes round.” 

''Hadn’t — hadn’t we better tie his hands be- 
hind his back?” faltered Hooker. 

"If we have to, we will,” assured Sleuth; "but 
it will be liable to cause him a great deal of suf- 
fering. You can see that he was shot in the 
right arm and shoulder. That’s where old Quinn 
plugged him. His coat sleeve is all bloody. The 
coat was removed while his wound was ban- 
daged, and his arm is hanging loose inside of it 
now. Certainly he couldn’t run very fast that 
way. No wonder he didn’t get away.” 

"He isn’t — dead — is he?” whispered Roy, 
staring at the pale face of the unfortunate wretch 
and noting a little trickle of blood which was 
running down across the man’s temple from a 
cut higher up in the edge of his scalp. 


244 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

‘'Oh, I guess not,’' answered Piper, with an 
hysterical little gulp of laughter. “He struck his 
head on the rocks down here when he fell, and 
that put him to sleep for fair ; but ITl wager heTl 
come round all right pretty soon. This is a big 
piece of work for us. Hook, old pal. Five hun- 
dred dollars for the capture of Mr. James Wil- 
son, alias Gentleman Jim, won’t divvy up so bad 
between us. Eh? What?” 

“But is he — is he Gentleman Jim?” muttered 
Roy, staring at the man’s face. “Have we got 
the right man?” 

“The right man?” echoed Piper. “He must 
be the right one, or Fred Sage never would have 
tried to help him get away. Isn’t he the man you 
saw and talked with in the woods beyond Cul- 
ver’s Bridge?” 

“No, he’s not,” answered Roy positively. 

“Gee !” gasped Sleuth in dismay. “That’s 
queer !” 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


SUSPICION. 

‘'Not — not the man?'' muttered Piper, still 
staring at the unconscious captive. “Why, he 
must be the man — he must be ! He can't be any- 
body else." 

“He's not the one I talked with," reiterated 
Hooker. “I never saw him before. That man 
was larger, taller, better looking." 

“Wait a minute," said Sleuth, thrusting his 
hand into his pocket and bringing out a clipping 
from a newspaper. “Here's the description of 
James Wilson. About twenty-six years of age, 
five feet ten inches in height, weight one hundred 
and sixty pounds, hair slightly curly, eyes blue, 
teeth white and even." 

“Doesn't come wdthin a thousand miles of fit- 
ting this fellow," asserted Hooker. “This man 
is thirty-five, if he's a minute. He doesn't stand 
more than five feet seven or eight, and he won't 
245 


246 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


weigh a pound over one hundred and forty-five. 
His hair is coarse, black and bristly. Can’t see 
the color of his eyes, but look at those teeth! 
You’d never call them white and even, would 
you?” 

'T should say not,” acknowledged Piper, in a 
tone of profound regret. ‘'This isn’t Gentleman 
Jim, but it must be one of his pals. Do you real- 
ize what that means, Roy?” 

“It means that we’ve caught the wrong bird 
and won’t get our fingers on that reward money,” 
sighed the other boy regretfully. 

“It means,” said Sleuth grimly, “that Fred 
Sage was concerned in assisting to escape a mem- 
ber of that gang, to whom he is in no way re- 
lated. It means that he’s an accomplice. There 
would be an excuse for his aiding his brother, 
but not for rendering assistance to any other 
member of the gang. It looks pretty bad for 
Fred.” 

“I can’t believe it,” muttered Roy — “I can’t 
believe he’d make himself the accomplice of 
criminals.” 


SUSPICION 


247 


'U don’t want to believe it, but what else are 
we to believe?” 

''1 hope he can explain.” 

'7 hope he won’t have to.” 

“Look out, Pipe, this fellow is coming round.” 

The man’s breast heaved, and a faint groan 
issued from his lips, following which his eyelids 
fluttered a bit and then lifted slowly. He lay 
there staring dumbly at the two boys, each of 
whom menaced him with a loaded pistol. For 
the time being he did not seem to realize what 
had happened. 

“It’s no use to try to kick up,” Piper stated 
warningly. “We’ve got you, and we’ll have to 
plug you if you try any tricks.” 

Slowly comprehension seemed to creep into 
the man’s brain, and presently he made a weak 
effort, as if trying to sit up, but fell back with 
a smothered cry that ended in a groan. 

“It’s pretty tough,” said Piper; “but you’ll 
have to make the best of it, my man. Fellows 
engaged in your line of business have to take 
their medicine when they run afoul of calamity. 
What’s your name?” 


248 THE GKEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 

Until Sleuth had repeated this question three 
times the man made no attempt to reply. After 
the third demand he growled falteringly and 
harshly : 

“None of your business.” 

“Thanks,” said Piper. “I guess your picture 
is in the rogues' gallery somewhere, and your 
identity will be learned all right when you're 
placed on trial. We've disarmed you so you 
can't make any sort of a fight of it, and we're 
going to take you back to Oakdale. Our great 
regret is that you're not Gentleman Jim.” 

The man looked at them queerly. “Who's 
Gentleman Jim ?" he growled. 

“Bluff,” said Piper — “pure bluff. He's your 
pal, and, doubtless, the leader of the gang who 
broke into the Oakdale bank last night and blew 
open the vault. Poor job, that. It's tough to be 
pinched without ever having lifted a dollar from 
that bank.” 

“You're a wise young brat !” sneered the man. 

“Hark!” exclaimed Hooker at this moment, 
rising quickly to his feet. “I hear voices. It 
must be some of the searchers,” 


SUSPICION 


249 


hope so/’ said Sleuth, who likewise could 
hear the sound of voices, evidently approaching, 
'‘ril keep this fellow covered, Roy. See who they 
are.” 

It proved to be a posse headed by Constable 
Abel Hubbard. From this armed body of men 
the captive had fled, having discovered them 
ahead of him in the woods. Hooker, seeing and 
recognizing the men, raised a shout that brought 
them hurrying to the gully, and soon the two boys 
were vainly trying to answer a score of questions 
hurled at them promiscuously. 

''Well, I swan to man!” spluttered Constable 
Hubbard when he presently understood the situ- 
ation. "I swan to man, if these two younkers 
ain’t ketched one of the rascals! That’s purty 
clever work for boys, feller citizens.” 

With scarcely an exception they agreed that 
it was, and Sleuth and Roy were showered with 
congratulations. 

"We’re rather glad you turned up, constable,” 
said Piper pompously. "It relieves us of the 
trouble of marching this poor wretch back to the 
lockup. We’ll turn him over to you with the un- 


250 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

derstanding that we’re to receive the reward, in 
case there’s one offered for his apprehension.” 

After a time the prisoner was lifted to his feet 
and boosted out of the gully, to be marched away 
toward town by the rejoicing posse. The short- 
est route was pursued, which led them down 
across the fields to the Barville road and thence 
into Lake Street. 

Piper and Hooker followed. 

The appearance of the party in the village cre- 
ated a great sensation ; but when the citizens were 
informed that Sleuth and Roy had effected the 
man’s capture, the sensation was even greater. 
The boys were plied with questions. Hooker felt 
like running away, but Piper seemed to enjoy it 
all hugely, and was tireless in describing how the 
man had been trailed, although, for some reason, 
to the relief of his companion, he avoided men- 
tioning Fred Sage or speaking of the telltale pool 
of blood upon the floor of Andrew Sage’s stable. 

The captive was confined under guard in the 
village lockup, and a doctor was called to give 
his injury proper attention. 

The boys could not learn that anything further 


SUSPICION 


251 


in connection with the bank robbery had trans- 
pired. Several armed posses were still search- 
ing in the vicinity of Oakdale, and the surround- 
ing country and towns had been warned by tele- 
phoning, which made it seem most improbable 
that the associates of the captured burglar could 
escape. 

'Tm going home for breakfast,’’ Hooker fi- 
nally announced. 

‘I’ve just discovered that I’m hungry myself,” 
said Sleuth. 

At a street corner, having gotten away from 
the crowd, they paused a moment. Piper, who 
had borne himself with no small amount of pride 
beneath the eyes of the townspeople, now be- 
trayed a disposition to be somewhat downcast 
and gloomy. 

“Look here,” said Roy, “I took special notice 
that you didn’t mention Fred Sage in connection 
with the matter. You dodged that, and so I kept 
still, too.” 

“I was in hopes you’d follow my lead. Hook. 
Forgot to warn you until it was too late.” 


252 THE GKEAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

'‘But whafs your idea in shielding Sage, if 
you think he’s guilty?” 

'Ts he guilty?” 

"Why, you know it certainly seems that ” 

"It seems so,” nodded Piper ; "but, still, I can’t 
bring myself to believe that our respected school- 
mate and comrade would make himself the ac- 
complice of criminals. I had this thing figured 
down to a fine point, Roy, but I’m willing to ad- 
mit that my calculations were decidedly upset. I 
don’t want to make any charges against Fred 
until I talk with him face to face.” 

"I’m glad,” breathed Roy — "I’m mighty glad 
of that. I thought you were absolutely positive. 
I own up it does look queer for Fred, but perhaps 
he can explain. I’m sure he can. I’ll go to 
him ” 

"No, you won’t,” interrupted Sleuth sharply. 
"You keep away from him. Hooker. You let me 
do this. You’d make a mess of it. There are 
other features of this afifair that puzzle me a 
bit. For instance, there are the missing securi- 
ties. Queer business that a bank vault which 
was only partly broken open should be discovered 


SUSPICION 


253 


short to the extent of twenty thousand dollars 
in negotiable securities/’ 

“Haven’t you any theory at all, Sleuth ?” 

“Only one. As long as I’ve trusted you this 
far, I may as well go the limit. Swear silence.” 

“All right.” 

“Cross your heart.” 

“Here goes.” 

“Then listen,” whispered Sleuth, after an un- 
necessary glance around, as if to make sure no 
one was within earshot. “I’ve never had much 
confidence in that smug, smooth-faced, canting 
cashier, Timmick. I know Urian Eliot trusts 
him, but I wouldn’t. I thought he acted queer 
while I was watching him in the bank after the 
attempted robbery was discovered.” 

“By Jove!” cried Hooker. “I’ve always said 
he was a sneak. I told Sage so myself. You’ve 
hit it — I’ll bet you’ve hit it. Sleuth!” 

“Not so loud! Cautious! cautious!” warned 
Piper. “Now don’t forget your oath. Don’t 
breathe this suspicion to a soul. If the robbers 
didn’t get those securities last night, and it’s a 
certain fact that they didn’t, someone removed 


254 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

them from the vault at an earlier date. The in- 
vestigation by the president and the directors led 
to the discovery that they were gone.’’ 

'‘Timmick did it,” said Hooker. ‘'He’s the 

9f 


man. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

THE BOY WHO ACTED GUIETY. 

The bank officials were perplexed and mysti- 
fied. With the arrival of Urian Eliot the inner 
door of the vault had been opened by Timmick. 
It was evident to them all that the looters had 
been driven away before they could open this 
door, and therefore there was every reason to 
believe that the contents of the vault would be 
found undisturbed. 

In order that a thorough examination might be 
made in the presence of the president and the 
others, the cash and securities contained in the 
various compartments of the vault had been re- 
moved and placed upon a long oak table in the ad- 
joining directors’ room. This done, the officials 
gathered about the table and began the investiga- 
tion, the president, pencil in hand, checking 
everything off on a list that had been furnished 
him by Timmick. 


255 


256 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


Then it was that they were shocked to dis- 
cover that twenty thousand dollars’ worth of ne- 
gotiable securities could not be found. The sug- 
gestion that these securities had been overlooked 
sent Timmick and one of the directors back to 
the vault, but without avail. In a few moments 
the cashier and his companion returned, and 
Timmick’s face was pale and his voice husky as 
he said: 

‘‘Those securities must be here on this table. 
They’re not in the vault. They must be here. 
They can’t be gone.” 

“We’ll go over the list again,” said Urian 
Eliot. “Let’s do it slowly, carefully and system- 
atically.” 

Their great care in this second inspection sim- 
ply served to confirm the fact that the securities 
were missing, whereupon Timmick collapsed 
upon a chair, seemingly on the verge of fainting. 

“It’s awful — incomprehensible!” he whispered 
hoarsely, staring at the faces of the other men. 
“I can’t understand it.” 

“Nor I,” snapped the little jeweler, rapping 
his knuckles sharply on the table and facing the 


THE BOY WHO ACTED GUILTY 


257 


cashier with a piercing eye. ‘Tf you canT ex- 
plain it, Mr. Timmick, I don’t know who can.” 

‘Why — why,” faltered the distressed cashier, 
“I hope — you don’t mean, sir ” 

“I’m sure Mr. Sprague will not be hasty with 
an insinuation,” interrupted Urian Eliot. “I’m 
sure we all have the utmost confidence in your 
integrity, Timmick.” 

It was noticeable, however, that none of the 
others said a word in support of this assertion, 
and Mr. Lucius Timmick looked very ill indeed 
by the white light of the shaded chandelier. 

It was some time after daylight before the offi- 
cials came forth from the bank and made in- 
quiries concerning the search for the fugitive 
crooks. Later they learned of the remarkable 
capture by two boys of the wounded member of 
the gang, and when the prisoner had been at- 
tended by a physician they sought to obtain some 
information from him by giving him a mild sort 
of “third degree” treatment. The effort, how- 
ever, resulted most unsatisfactorily. The pris- 
oner, stretched on a cot in the lockup, grimly de- 


258 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


fied them and sullenly refused to answer a single 
question. 

''Aw, go on,’’ he growled. "You couldn’t make 
me snitch if you skinned me.” 

"Your accomplices are certain to be captured,” 
asserted Lemuel Hayden. "They can’t get away. 
It is your opportunity to obtain a little clemency 
by confessing before any of the others do so.” 

"Bite it off,” advised the prisoner. "You’re 
wasting your wind, old geezer. I never ties up 
with squealers.” 

About this time Roy Hooker, crowding down 
a breakfast rendered tasteless by his excitement, 
was telling his astounded mother a story that 
made her gasp and throw up her hands. 

"Mercy!” she cried, staring at him. "You 
caught one of the robbers — ^you and Billy Piper ? 
I never heard of such a thing! Two boys catch- 
ing a desperate burglar!” 

"We caught him,” laughed Roy, "though per- 
haps it wouldn’t have been so easy, only he was 
pretty weak from his wound and the loss of 
blood.” 

"You’ll be killed some day, Roy,” prophesied 


THE BOY WHO ACTED GUILTY 259 

his mother. "‘Now there’s your father; I didn’t 
want him to go out with the men who are hunt- 
ing the robbers, but he just would go. I’m wor- 
ried to death for fear he’ll get shot or some- 
thing.” 

'Wonder what he will say when he hears what 
Sleuth and I did,” chuckled Roy, gulping down a 
final mouthful and pushing back from the table. 
"Bet he don’t do as much.” He rose and grabbed 
his cap. 

"Where are you going now?” asked Mrs. 
Hooker apprehensively. "I won’t be able to rest 
easy a minute.” 

"Oh, there’s something doing in Oakdale this 
morning. Only a dead one could hang around 
home with so much going on. Don’t worry, 
mother ; nothing will happen to me. They ought 
to be marching in some of the other crooks pretty 
soon, and I want to see ’em when they come.” 

Outside the house, however, he paused, as if 
doubtful concerning the course he would pursue, 
and for some moments he seemed struggling 
with contending desires. 

"Sleuth didn’t want me to see Fred,” he mut- 


260 THE GEE AT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 

tered. ''He made me promise I wouldn’t tell 
Sage anything. Fred’s my friend. If he’s mixed 
up in this rotten business it’s a shame. I’d like 
to see him a minute; I must see him. I won’t 
give anything away, but I’d like to see how he’ll 
behave. I’m just going up to his house, that’s 
all.” 

Having arrived at this decision, he hurried up 
Willow Street, crossing to Main only after the 
heart of the village had been left behind. As 
he drew near the home of the Sages his pace 
slackened somewhat, and he began to realize that 
he almost dreaded to meet Fred face to face. 
Even when he had reached the proper point to 
turn in from the street he hesitated and was al- 
most tempted to retrace his steps. 

At that moment, as if he had seen Hooker, 
Fred came out of the house, and Roy walked into 
the yard. 

"Hello, Hook,” said Sage. "What’s the latest? 
Have they caught any of the robbers ? My father 
is down town now.” 

It seemed rather singular to Hooker that Fred 
also was not in the village, and, furthermore, 


THE BOY WHO ACTED GUILTY 261 

Roy imagined he could perceive something un- 
natural and distraught in his friend's manner. 

“S'pose you've heard about Pipe and me?" said 
Roy. 

^^No. I've been staying home with mother. 
She's nervous. Father deposits at the bank, you 
know, and he wanted to find out if there had 
really been a robbery. What about you and 
Sleuth?" 

'We caught one of the gang," announced the 
visitor proudly. 

"You — you did?" faltered Sage, seeming to 
stiffen a bit. "Really and truly did you and 
Sleuth catch one of them ?" 

"Really and truly, old man. We ran him down 
over behind Turkey Hill and nabbed him. He's 
in the lockup now." 

"Back of Turkey Hill !" said Fred, a bit husk- 
ily, and the other boy fancied his face lost color 
somewhat. "How — how did you do it?" 

"Oh, the fellow was wounded, and it wasn't 
much of a trick. Old Quinn blazed away blindly 
at the robbers when they ran, and he happened 
to hit this on^. Of course," he continued, with a 


262 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

pardonable touch of pride, ^^some folks seem to 
think we did quite a thing in nabbing him/’ 

“I don’t wonder,” muttered Fred. ''Tell me 
just how you did it.” 

With a sudden impulse, Roy strode past his 
companion, saying : "Come on into the stable and 
I’ll tell you.” 

"We can talk just as well out here,” said Sage 
hastily. "Let’s not go in there.” 

"But I want to go in there,” persisted Hooker, 
keeping on, although his friend had grasped his 
arm. 

The sliding doors were now nearly closed, but 
Hooker thrust one of them back sufficiently to 
enter, and Fred, ceasing to object, followed into 
the building. 

At a glance Roy perceived a large damp spot 
upon the floor, where upon his previous visit 
there had been a pool of blood. Every trace of 
the blood stains was gone. Turning quickly to 
Sage, Hooker saw that he was being watched 
narrowly, but instantly Fred’s eyelids drooped. 

"Sleuth was right in his suspicions, after all,” 
thought the visitor, with sinking heart. "If there 


THE BOY WHO ACTED GUILTY 263 

wasn’t something wrong, they’d never removed 
those stains and kept still about it.” 

/'Tell me,” urged Fred, "how you happened to 
find this wounded robber. How did you trace 
him?” 

"I didn’t say we traced him.” 

"No, but I supposed — that is, I imagined you 
must have been led in some way to search for 
him over by Turkey Hill.” 

"He’s in it — in it up to the neck,” thought Roy, 
almost bitterly. "It’s a shame! He seemed like 
such a fine fellow !” 

"What’s the matter?” asked the other lad 
nervously. "Why don’t you tell me all about it?” 

"Oh, yes, I — I will. You see, it was this way.” 
He began his story at the point where he and 
Piper had discovered the fugitive from their posi- 
tion in the clearing on the northern shoulder of 
the hill. In the midst of the narrative, through 
which he was hurrying, the boys were startled by 
the swift tread of feet, and a moment later sev- 
eral persons, led by Constable Hubbard, entered 
the stable. 

"What — what is it?” demanded Fred Sage at 


264 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

sight of the men. ‘What are you doing here?’’ 

“We’re a-looking for one of them there bank 
robber critters,” answered the constable, “and 
for sartain reasons we’re led to believe he’s hid- 
ing round these premises somewhere. The build- 
ings are surrounded complete, and he can’t git 
away.” 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


ANOTHER capture:. 

Roy Hooker, interrupted in the midst of his 
narrative by the appearance of the constable and 
the posse, was not a little startled, but his dismay 
was nothing compared with that of Fred Sage. 
For a few moments following the assertion of 
Abel Hubbard Fred apparently found it impos- 
sible to speak, although he made an effort to do 
so. Recovering his voice presently, he falter- 
ingly and huskily cried : 

‘'One of the bank robbers here? It’s impos- 
sible, Mr. Hubbard! You’re certainly mistaken.” 

“Maybe so,” admitted the constable, rolling a 
quid of tobacco into his plump cheek; “but we’ll 
see about that. I received notice that he was 
here from a certain young feller that’s showed 
himself rather wise and slick by ketching one of 
the bunch.” 

“By which,” said a voice, as Sleuth Piper 
265 


2G6 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

stepped forward, ‘'the worthy officer refers to 
me/’ 

“You!” gasped Fred, resentment mingling 
with his alarm. “You! I might have guessed 
it! You’ve got a grudge against me. Piper, and 
you’ve made all sorts of trouble for ” 

“I positively disclaim any personal animosity,” 
interrupted Sleuth. “I’m simply doing my duty, 
that the ends of justice may be attained. I will 
add. Sage, that I’m mighty sorry to see you in- 
volved.” 

Following this statement he turned somewhat 
savagely upon Hooker, to whose side he quickly 
stepped. 

“You’re to blame,” he snapped in a low tone. 
“You forced me into this sooner than I in- 
tended.” 

“/ did?” muttered Roy, astonished. “How?” 

“You broke your pledge to me. You forgot 
your solemn oath. I suspected that you might, 
and, fortunately, I had my eyes open. I saw 
you skin up here to tell Sage, and I lost no time 
in notifying the constable and getting him to 
bring an armed party to search these premises.” 


ANOTHER CAPTURE 


267 


'TTl bet they don’t find anything,” said 
Hooker. 'T hope not. If they don’t, it will take 
some of the swelling out of your head.” 

“Time is val’able,” announced Abel Hubbard 
sagely, “so we’ll begin s’arching right away. 
We’ll take the stable fust, and then we’ll go 
through the house. Git at it, boys,” he com- 
manded, with a wave of one pudgy hand. 

The men started to obey, but before they could 
really begin the door of the little granary at one 
side of the stable swung open, and a man stepped 
out into view. 

“If you’re looking for me,” he said coolly, 
“you needn’t go any further; but let me state 
right here that I was in no way concerned in 
that attempted bank robbery.” 

“Clarence!” gasped Fred Sage. 

“The man I met in the woods!” burst from 
Hooker’s lips. 

“Gentleman Jim, or I’ll eat my hat!” exulted 
Piper. “Nab him, men! He’s desperate! Don’t 
let him play any tricks !” 

Immediately the man, who was indeed the 
mysterious stranger with whom Hooker had 


268 THE GKEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 

conversed, was covered by several loaded guns 
and commanded to throw up his hands, an order 
which he disdainfully obeyed. 

‘Ht won’t be necessary to shoot,” he said. 
sha’n’t offer the slightest resistance.” 

'‘Keep him kivered,” fluttered Constable Hub- 
bard — "keep him kivered till I put the irons on 
him!” 

Producing a set of old-fashioned manacles, the 
excited constable bunglingly snapped them upon 
the wrists of the man. 

"There!” he breathed in deep satisfaction; 
"we’ve got you, all right. By golly! that boy 
Piper is a wonder.” 

"Constable,” said Sleuth, remindingly, "you 
mustn’t forget that it was solely through infor- 
mation supplied by me that Mr. James Wilson, 
alias Gentleman Jim, was captured. I shall lay 
claims to the reward offered for him.” 

"I guess you’ll git your share of it, if he’s the 
feller you think he is.” 

"He’s nobody of the sort,” excitedly asserted 
Fred Sage. "He’s in no way connected with the 
bank robbers. You’re making a dreadful blunder.” 


ANOTHER CAPTURE 


269 


‘‘Then whaUs he doing, hiding here?’’ ques- 
tioned Hubbard incredulously. “Mebbe you can 
explain that.” 

“Yes, yes,” faltered Fred, “perhaps — I can.” 

“Don’t try it,” implored the prisoner quickly. 
“It won’t do any good, Fred; they wouldn’t be- 
lieve you. I should have gone away yesterday 
and saved you all this trouble.” 

“It’s awful,” choked young Sage — “awful for 
you! Oh, what made you come here at aUl” 

“Simply because I was a fool and couldn’t keep 
away,” was the bitter answer. 

“This ain’t no place to chin it over,” said the 
constable sharply. “It’s my business to lodge this 
here gent in the lockup, and I’m going to do so 
jest about as quick as I can.” 

“Wait a minute,” pleaded Fred. “My mother 
doesn’t know. She’s in the house. Doubtless 
she’s in terror now because of all these armed 
men around the place. Wait two minutes, until 
I can go inside and prevent her from looking out 
of the window when you take Clar — this man 
away. Won’t you do that much, Mr. Hubbard?” 

“I don’t see no reason why I shouldn’t. Go 


270 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

ahead, young feller, and soothe down your 
mammy. Dll give ye jest two minutes, and then 
we’ll march this feller off to the caboose.” 

Flinging a final resentful look at Piper, Fred 
hurried into the house. Sleuth, preening himself 
proudly, could not refrain from giving Hooker 
another jab. 

‘'You did a good thing for yourself. Hook,” he 
sneered. “By going back on me, you cut your- 
self out of any share in the reward money. 
We’ve got the feller who calls himself James 
Wilson; there’s no doubt about that. Further- 
more, you must have observed that Fred called 
him Clarence, which fully confirms my deduction 
that Clarence Sage is not dead, although an un- 
known man was buried under that name.” 

“It looks as if you’re right. Pipe,” admitted 
Roy sadly; “but losing a share of the reward 
don’t hurt me half as much as knowing what this 
means to Fred and his folks.” 

“Time’s up,” announced Constable Hubbard, 
snapping shtit the case of his silver watch and 
dropping it into his pocket. “Come on, Mr. 
Crook ; for’ard, march !” 


CHAPTER XXVII. 


THE TWO PRISONERS. 

As the key rattled in the lock of the heavily 
barred door the wounded prisoner looked up 
from the cot on which he was lying and saw the 
second captive marched into the room by Con- 
stable Hubbard. 

"T guess/’ said the constable, '1 can chance it 
to take the irons off ye while you’re in here, for 
we’ve got the place guarded by men who would 
shoot ye quick as they’d spit if you ever did break 
out, which ain’t nohow prob’le.” 

''Thank you,” said the man, as Hubbard re- 
moved the handcuffs. "I won’t try to break out, 
I promise you that.” 

"And I’d be a fool if I took any stock in your 
promise,” said the fat officer, as he backed out of 
the room, closing and relocking the door. 

With a grimace of pain, the wounded man 
371 


m THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTERY, 


lifted himself to a sitting posture on the cot. The 
eyes of the two prisoners met. 

''So they nabbed you after all, Thirteen-thir- 
teen,’’ said the first prisoner. "Tough luck, old 
pal. I told yer to lay low.'' 

The other man shrugged his shoulders. "I 
did," he answered; "but they surrounded the 
place and had me pinched, so there was no use 
trying to make a run for it. If I'd tried that, 
the chances were a hundred to one that the dam- 
age to your wing wouldn't have been a patch 
compared to what would have happened to me." 

"Tough luck,'’ repeated the other. "But they 
can't do anything to yer for this job we made 
such a rotten mess of. I won't forget how you 
tied up this shoulder of mine, nor how the kid 
did his best to give me a show to get away. I'll 
swear you wasn't mixed up in the job here." 

The younger man smiled wearily. "It's not 
fear of their nailing this business onto me that 
gets me," he said; "it's the old case against 
me. I was supposed to be dead and buried, you 
know. Yes, it's tough luck. I was born under 
an unlucky star on the thirteenth day of the 


THE TWO PKISONEES 


273 


month. In prison I was 'Number 1313/ and 
that was a double sign of bad luck,’’ 

"You made a great break, you and your two 
pals. When they nabbed the other pair and 
couldn’t find you, it seemed that all the luck was 
yours. Course, arter I did my bit and was 
turned loose, I heard you had croaked. When I 
was sitting on that box just at day peep trying 
to stop the blood that was leaking out of me and 
you stepped out to give a hand at the job, you 
certain looked like a ghost. I couldn’t believe 
you was old Thirteen-thirteen till you owned up 
to it. Then the youngster come on us, and we 
had to ” 

"That’s the thing I regret most. Look here, 
Riley, you owe me something, don’t you?” 

"Anything you say, old pal.” 

"I bound up your wound the best way I could. 
My brother caught me at it. Then we had to 
ring him into the business, knowing that the 
searchers were likely to trace you to that place. 
If they did so, it was a sure thing that I’d be 
nabbed, which must lead to the public knowledge 
that Clarence Sage, escaped convict, had not been 


274 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 

drowned in the Hudson. In hopes of avoiding 
this, my brother guided you into the woods and 
helped you as best as he could to get another start 
in your flight.'' 

‘‘The kid done his part all right, pal." 

“Now I want you to do yours, Riley." 

“Spiel it off. Lay it out. Put me on. What 
am I to do?" 

“Not one word about my brother and the part 
he played must escape your lips. He did it for 
me, not for you, but you owe him this much : you 
must protect him." 

“Bank on it, cull — bank on it. They'll never 
jimmy a word of it outer me." 

“Thanks," said Clarence Sage, taking the sin- 
gle chair which the lockup contained and seating 
himself near the cot. “That relieves my mind in 
a measure. Fred's a fine boy, and it would be a 
shame to have suspicion fall on him. My mis- 
fortune has cast enough stigma on my unfortu- 
nate family." 

“Say, 'bo, there's just one thing about you 
that I don't like. You don't have to put up this 
misfortune bluff to me. Course it's always hard 


THE TWO PEISONERS 


275 


luck when we get laid by the heels on any little 
job, but seems to me you’re throwing it out that 
you was on the level.” 

“I was,” asserted Clarence Sage grimly, al- 
most fiercely. was arrested, tried and con- 
victed for a crime I never committed. If this 
were not true, I wouldn’t think of saying so now. 
Somebody else looted the bank, and I believe I 
know the man. It was on his testimony princi- 
pally that I was convicted. He saved himself, but 
the knowledge that he sent an innocent man to 
Sing Sing may possibly have caused him some 
uneasy and regretful moments.” 

‘Well,” said Riley slowly, as he narrowly eyed 
his fellow prisoner, “you spiels it like you was 
talking gospel. Mebbe it’s true.” 

“It is true,” asserted Clarence Sage. “Think 
what it meant, Riley, not only to me, but to my 
people. I have the finest mother a boy ever had. 
The thought of her shame and suffering has been 
gall and wormwood to me.” 

“My old mother,” said Riley, with a touch of 
sentiment, “was dead and buried before I was 
pinched the first time, thank Heaven !” 


276 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 

Sage bowed his head and spoke in a low tone, 
his gaze fixed upon the floor. 

'Tt was to get another look at my mother’s 
face that I returned to Oakdale. I was here a 
week ago, and I went away without obtaining a 
glimpse of her. In all the years that I was sup- 
posed to be dead I have carried her image in my 
heart, and it was the knowledge of her faith in 
me — for she never believed me guilty — that kept 
me straight, I believe. I’ve knocked about in 
many places and associated with all sorts of men, 
some of them honest, but many more who were 
crooks. I’ve roughed it in Alaska, sailed before 
the mast, starved and nearly died from fever in 
the Philippines, tried my hand at coal mining in 
Australia; and through it all the knowledge of 
my mother’s faith has kept me straight, even 
though I’ve had many a chance to turn a good 
thing by crookedness. At last, believing there 
was little danger, I came back and hunted for my 
people. I found them here, and here I have like- 
wise found my undoing.” 

‘‘Tough luck,” said Riley again. “They’ll send 
you back to the jug.” 


THE TWO PKISONEKS 


277 


doubt of it. I'll have to serve out my 
term, with an additional period hitched on to it 
because of my break. There's water in my veins, 
Riley ; the dread of what I'm up against takes the 
heart out of me. Perhaps you don't know what 
it is to be sent to prison with the knowledge that 
you're innocent and serving time for the crime 
of another man." 

'It must be fierce," said Riley sympathetically. 
"And you say he put it on you at the trial ? Pal, 
if I was in your boots, he'd get hisn some day. 
When I'd done my turn and been discharged, I'd 
look the gent up and hand him something he'd 
remember — if he was in shape to remember any- 
thing." 

"That would be poor satisfaction to me. It 
wouldn't clear my name of the crime. It might 
mean that I'd be sent up again for another, still 
greater, crime. The only thing in this wide 
world that can ever give me the least satisfaction 
is proof of my innocence. I've dreamed of it — 
dreamed of it a million times. I've dreamed of 
standing before the world free and exonerated. 
Of going to my old mother and feeling her arms 


278 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKy] 


about my neck and her tears upon my cheeks, and 
hearing her glad cry, H knew it, my boy — I knew 
it!’ Nothing but that, Riley, can ever satisfy me, 
and if there’s any justice under Heaven it will 
come some day.” 

hope so, pal — I hope so,” said Riley, with 
genuine sympathy. 'I’m just a plain crook, and 
nothing else ; but for an honest man to be marked 
as a crook by the bulls and people in general — > 
why, that’s blazes, sure.” 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


THE SHREDS OE HOPE. 

During the time that Clarence Sage had been 
practically in hiding upon the premises of his 
parents his mother had been wholly unaware of 
his proximity. Resigned in her belief that her 
unfortunate son lay buried in another state, Mrs. 
Sage had bravely endeavored to make the best 
of the terrible affliction which had come upon her 
at a period of her life when all things had seemed 
the most promising of happiness and prosperity. 
Never for a moment, even after the jury had pro- 
nounced him guilty and he had been sentenced to 
prison, had Mrs. Sage entertained a doubt re- 
garding the innocence of her older son. As far 
as possible the newspaper reports of the young 
man’s escape from prison were kept from her; 
but in time, when, many weeks later, Andrew 
Sage had viewed the body of a man recovered 
from th*' Hudson and pronounced it that of Clar- 
279 


280 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY, 

ence, it had been necessary to tell her the crush- 
ing and terrible truth. 

For a time the poor woman was prostrated and 
under the constant care of a physician. During 
that period the body of the drowned man was 
buried and a tombstone bearing the name of 
Clarence Sage was placed over the grave. 

With commendable knowledge of feminine 
nature, the physician, finally perceiving that 
drugs or medicines of any sort would never help 
Mrs. Sage, succeeded in rousing her by turning 
her mind from herself to her husband; by lead- 
ing her gradually to believe that the shock of the 
tragedy had benumbed Andrew Sage and threat- 
ened to crush him entirely unless something could 
be done to encourage him to brace up; by con- 
vincing her that she alone could do this, and 
that it was her duty to make the effort. 

The result was most surprising. The sick 
woman rose from her bed, and, seconded by the 
younger son, set about the task of cheering and 
encouraging the stricken father. She pleaded 
with him to turn his thoughts from their dead 
son and to remernber that Heaven had graciously 


THE SHEEDS OF HOPE 281 

spared them another son, to whom they owed a 
duty which must not be forgotten. She forced 
herself to smile, and in time the sunshine of that 
smile, even though tempered a bit with the faint- 
est cloud of sorrow, which promised never wholly 
to leave her, drove most of the black shadows of 
bitter resentment from the heart of old Andrew 
Sage. In time they came to talk the matter over 
calmly, and decided to leave their home in New 
York, where, were they to remain, they must be 
continually reminded of that which they wished 
to forget, and move to some obscure town in an- 
other state. 

And so it happened that, after many years of 
hardships and wandering and constant yearning 
for the sight of his mother’s face, the you.ig man 
who was supposed to be dead traced them to that 
little town. Through a window of the house he 
had tried to get a look at his mother, but had been 
sent scurrying away by Fred, who, discovering 
the prowler, came out and circled the buildings. 

That very night Clarence tramped onward to 
another village, resolved to return no more to 
Oakdale. He had learned that his parents and 


282 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


his brother were comfortably settled there and 
apparently peaceful and happy, and he told him- 
self that the knowledge was sufficient. 

But he had not seen his mother’s face, and each 
hour and each day the yearning to do so grew 
stronger within him, until presently it made him 
falter, broke his resolution and caused him to 
turn back. 

Fred, returning home from the disappointing 
duck hunt at Marsh Pond, was seen by Clarence, 
who suddenly decided to let his brother know 
that he still lived. The reader may imagine the 
state of mind into which this meeting between the 
brothers threw Fred Sage. It was this mental 
condition which caused his thoughts to wander 
in the football game that afternoon and made him 
responsible for much of the bad playing and 
many of the flukes which prevented the home 
team from piling up a bigger score in the earlier 
stages of the game, and thus encouraged the visi- 
tors to keep plugging with all the energy and ag- 
gressiveness they could work up, until eventually 
they swept Oakdale down in defeat. 

For two nights Clarence Sage slept upon some 


THE SHEEDS OF HOPE 


283 


blankets in the stable granary. After seeing and 
talking with Clarence several times, Fred decided 
that their father should be taken into the great 
secret — should be told that the boy he thought 
dead was still living. 

‘Hf I know father,’’ argued Fred, ''and I think 
I do, it will do him a heap of good. On the other 
hand. I’m just as sure that it would be a big mis- 
take to let mother know. She’d want you to stay 
near her, that she might be able to see you, and 
she would live in constant terror lest the truth 
become known and you were taken back to prison. 
She has struggled hard to forget you in a way, 
Clarence — that is, to put you out of her mind so 
that she might cease to brood over that dreadful 
thing.” 

Clarence agreed with Fred, and thus it came 
about that on Sunday old Andrew Sage came to 
know the amazing truth that his unfortunate son 
still lived. While Fred entertained his mother in 
the house the bewildered father talked with Clar- 
ence in the stable. 

At first old Andrew had thought that his wife 
must be told, but it was not difficult to convince 


284 THE GKEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 


him that this would be unwise. He spent as 
much time as possible talking with Clarence, who 
told him briefly the story of his experiences since 
escaping from prison, and together they laid 
plans for the future. Only once did Clarence de- 
clare to his father his innocence of the crime for 
which he had been convicted. Mr. Sage checked 
him promptly, stating positively that such a pro- 
testation was unnecessary, as he had never per- 
mitted himself for a single instant to entertain 
any doubts upon that point. 

Clarence thought of going away Sunday night, 
but he had no money in his pocket, and, learning 
this, his father practically commanded him to 
wait until Monday, when he would draw from 
the bank and furnish the wanderer with funds, 
which might be taken as a loan and repaid when 
convenient. Thus it happened that Clarence lin- 
gered, finally to be captured as one of the bank 
robbers by Constable Hubbard. 

As he had expected, when he hurried into the 
house to quiet her apprehensions, Fred found his 
mother much disturbed by the presence of the 


THE SHEEDS OF HOPE 285 

armed men whom she had seen through the win- 
dows. 

‘What does it mean, my boy?’’ she asked, her 
face quite pale. “Why are they here?” 

“They’re hunting everywhere for the bank 
robbers, you know,” was the answer. “There’s 
no telling where the scoundrels may have taken 
refuge.” 

“But not here — they can’t expect to find any of 
them here!” 

“Perhaps they don’t really expect to find them, 
but they can’t afford to overlook the possibility. 
Why, what’s happened out here ?” As he uttered 
this exclamation he hurried to a window at the 
back of the house and peered through it, pressing 
his face against the glass. 

The little subterfuge was sufficient. His 
mother likewise hastened to the window and 
looked forth, questioning him agitatedly. 

“Two of the men out there — I saw them run- 
ning, I thought,” he answered. “They were run- 
ning toward the corner. I didn’t know but they 
had seen something. Look, mother, at that big 
tree at the edge of the orchard. Father had to 


286 THE GBEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 


prop the limbs up when it was loaded with fruit. 
It must be pruned.'’ In this manner he kept her 
at the window until he was quite certain that the 
men with the prisoner had vanished down the 
road toward town. 

Afterward he waited with no small impatience 
for the return of his father from the village. He 
did not contemplate for a moment leaving his 
mother alone. Ordinarily he might have done so, 
but, now that she knew of the attempted bank 
robbery and had seen the armed man-hunters, 
she was pitifully pale and almost bordering upon 
complete collapse. Fred knew that her mind had 
been led to thoughts of Clarence and what he 
must have suffered in prison and as a fugitive 
with the armed guards hunting him across the 
frozen bosom of the Hudson. 

Fred's own mind was in a scarcely less tumul- 
tous and painful condition, but he tried his best 
to lead his mother's thoughts into pleasanter 
channels. All the while, having placed himself 
where he could watch the road, he waited for 
the coming of his father. 

In time Andrew Sage appeared, walking 


THE SHEEDS OF HOPE 


28 ’r 


briskly, although his shoulders were a trifle 
stooped. At once Fred made an excuse and hur- 
ried to meet his father. 

As the boy drew near, he became assured by 
the old man’s appearance that he did not know 
that Clarence had been taken. 

‘Tather,” said Fred hurriedly, want a word 
with you before you go into the house. Some- 
thing has happened.” 

'What is it?” asked Andrew Sage, a sudden 
shadow of apprehension clouding his face. 
"Uncle Ed Tower just told me that another one 
of the robbers has been caught.” 

"Father,” said Fred, standing with his back 
toward the house, "what I am going to tell you 
will be a shock, and it’s possible that mother is 
watching us from the window. You must not 
let her see that you’re affected.” 

The man’s face grew suddenly ashen. 

"Clarence?” he muttered hoarsely. 

"Do brace up,” urged Fred. "They came here 
to search for one of the robbers. They had been 
told that he was hiding in our stable.” 

"And they found Clarence?” 


288 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

''Yes. He gave himself up when he realized 
that it was useless to try to hide.” 

"But — but he had — nothing to do with the at- 
tempted robbery. They had no right to touch 
him for that. Didn’t he tell them?” 

"What good would that have done, father ? He 
was found concealed in our stable, and he’s a 
stranger in this town. You can see that no ex- 
planation he could possibly make would keep 
them from locking him up.” 

"But they have no right to touch him!” cried 
Mr. Sage, with a sudden vehement gesture. 

"Steady, father. Remember about mother. 
She does not know. I kept her diverted while 
they took him away. You must be strong. We 
must continue as long as possible to hide the 
truth from her.” 

"But it will all come out now,” groaned the 
old man, his shoulders drooping more than ever. 
"It’s my fault — my fault ! Why didn’t I let the 
boy go yesterday ? I am to blame 1” 

"No one is to blame, father. It’s just fate. It 
had to come.” 

"But — but if they find he’s not one of the rob- 


THE SHEEDS OF HOPE 


289 


bers — if he can prove that he’s not,” said An- 
drew Sage eagerly, ''perhaps they will let him 
go.” 

"That’s my only hope, and it’s a slim one, 
father. We mustn’t base too much upon it.” 
Even as he said this, Fred realized how futile 
that hope was. For had not Sleuth Piper, by 
prying and spying, learned the truth, which 
would mean full exposure for Clarence? Still, 
it was not best to let Andrew Sage know at pres- 
ent how desperate the situation was. 

"I’m going into town and see what can be 
done,” said Fred. "You’re completely upset, 
father, but still you must keep it from mother. 
If they capture the other robbers there may yet 
be a chance — a very small chance — for Clar- 
ence.” 

"It’s fate,” mumbled Mr. Sage, repeating the 
words the boy had spoken a few moments be- 
fore — "fate! It would have been better had he 
never come here; better had he left us in ignor- 
ance that he was alive.” 

He swayed, and Fred clutched his arm, again 
entreating him to brace up. 


290 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 


'Tm tired, tired!'’ sighed old Andrew Sage, 
his face drawn and haggard. “I must rest." 

Alarmed, Fred said, ‘I'll help you to the 
house." 

In a moment, however, Mr. Sage drew him- 
self up and protested that he needed no assist- 
ance. 

“Your mother, boy — your mother," he mur- 
mured. “She will see and be frightened. I'm 
all right now; I'm strong. You see what more 
you can learn, and if it's anything favorable let 
me know as soon as possible. Look! You can 
see that I'm all right now. Go !" 

Bravely, sturdily he started onward toward 
the house, even turning to wave his hand and 
throw the boy a mock smile, which at that dis- 
tance might deceive the eyes of the woman with- 
in the house. 

After watching the old man for a few mo- 
ments, Fred turned toward the village, breaking 
into a run ere he had passed beyond sight of his 
home. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


A CONCESSION FROM SLEUTH. 

In a way, business in Oakdale was suspended, 
or, perhaps it should be said that it had not really 
begun for the day. On the street corners groups 
of men and boys discussed the recent exciting 
events and speculated over the probability of 
quick capture of the robber or robbers who still 
remained at large; for it was believed that at 
least three men had been concerned in the effort 
to plunder the bank. Somehow, it had leaked out 
that a part of the bank funds were missing, and 
of course this created an additional volume of 
gossip and speculation. 

Fred, searching for Sleuth Piper, was hailed 
by various schoolboy friends, but, further than 
to make inquiries regarding Sleuth, he had no 
time for them. At last he found the boy he 
sought, who was on his way to the office of the 
village lawyers. 


291 


292 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 

Sleuth turned and waited as Fred called his 
name and came hurrying up. 

'1 want to see you, Piper,’’ said Sage. “I 
want a little private talk with you.” 

“I’m pretty busy,” returned Sleuth ; “but I pre- 
sume I can spare you a little of my valuable time. 
Of course I can imagine what you’re after, but 
I’m afraid it won’t be any use, old fellow. I’m 

sorry for you, but ” 

“Oh, yes, you are — not” flung back Fred 

scornfully. “After what you’ve done ” 

“Now wait; stop right there,” interrupted 
Sleuth. “I’ve simply done my duty, although in 
your position you may not regard it as such. If 
my brother was a bank robber and an escaped 
convict, perhaps I’d feel hard toward anyone who 
tried to send him back to prison, but at the same 

time I’m sure my sense of justice ” 

“Bosh! That sort of tommyrot gives me a 
cramp. Besides, my brother is an innocent man.” 

Sleuth lifted his eyebrows and shrugged in- 
credulously. 

“He’s innocent, I tell you!” panted Fred 
fiercely. 


A CONCESSION FEOM SLEUTH 


293 


‘Ht looks that way, don’t it!” said the young 
amateur detective, unable in spite of his pro- 
fessed sympathy for Sage, to repress a slight 
sneer. 

''No, it doesn’t look that way,” admitted the 
other boy. "I own up that it must seem that he’s 
surely guilty. Here come some people. Piper. 
They’ll stand around and listen. We can’t talk 
here. Won’t you come with me some place where 
we’ll be by ourselves, with no rubbernecks 
around?” 

Sleuth hesitated a moment. "I can see the 
lawyers later,” he muttered presently. "As long 
as it’s you, Fred, and you’re so badly broken up, 
I’ll do what you want, though again I must say 
I’m sure it’s useless.” 

When Sile Crane and Chub Tuttle attempted 
to follow them as they turned down the street 
Fred whirled and almost snarled: 

"What do you fellows want? Can’t you let 
us have a little private talk?” 

"Lordy!” gasped Tuttle. "Don’t snap any- 
body’s head off. Haven’t you had breakfast? 
Here, take some peanuts.” 


294 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 

Disdaining this placating offer, Fred strode 
away at Sleuth’s side. Reaching the bridge, they 
paused. 

'H hope you’re not going to appeal to me from 
the standpoint of friendship,” said Piper. ''You 
must realize that it’s too late now, old man. Your 
brother is captured, and I can do nothing. I ex- 
pect to receive the reward offered for his appre- 
hension.” 

"The offer was withdrawn long ago, when it 
was supposed that he had been drowned in the 
Hudson.” 

"Oh, I don’t mean that; I mean the reward 
offered for the party known as James Wilson, or 
Gentleman Jim.” 

"Piper, you’re on the wrong track. My brother 
is not Gentleman Jim.” 

Again Sleuth shrugged. Slipping his hand 
into his pocket, he drew forth the printed descrip- 
tion of James Wilson which he had clipped from 
the newspaper. 

"This fits him to a tee,” he said. "He must be 
the man.” 

"I admit that^ in a way, the description of Wil- 


A CONCESSION FEOM SLEUTH 295 

son seems to fit my brother, but still, I maintain 
that they are two different men. Piper. YouTl 
find it out, too, if this Wilson was concerned in 
the attempt on the bank last night and he does 
not escape the men who are hunting for him. 
My brother had no hand in that business.’' 

^'How do you know that?” 

''How do I know? Why, he — he came here 
alone ; came to get a glimpse of the mother whose 
heart was so nearly broken over his terrible mis- 
fortune. Oh, Sleuth, you can’t realize what 
you’ve done! You pried into our secret. There 
are few families so fortunate that they have no 
secret they wish to keep hidden from the general 
public.” 

"I won’t argue about that,” said Piper, return- 
ing the newspaper clipping to his pocket, "for it 
can have no bearing on the situation. You say 
your brother was not concerned in the attempt to 
rob the Oakd?le bank. I ask, how do you know? 
He was here, wasn’t he? He was hidden in your 
stable. Of course he told you that he came here 
to see your mother. That’s a plausible story. 
But how do you know he didn’t come here to 


296 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 

take a hand in that bank cracking? While you 
were asleep in your bed last night, he was help- 
ing his pals cut their way into the bank and blow 
open the vault/’ 

''No — I tell you no!” contradicted Fred, his 
hands working convulsively, as if he longed to 
choke the other boy. "Clarence never did a dis- 
honorable or criminal thing in his life. After 
his escape from prison he fled to the West, and, 
while this man called Gentleman Jim has been 
making himself notorious as a crook, Clarence 
has been in Alaska and Australia. He has but 
lately returned to this part of the country.” 

"How do you know?” persisted Sleuth, un- 
shaken in his position. "Of course that’s the 
story he told you. Naturally, he’d lie to you.” 

Fred’s chest rose and fell; his teeth were set 
and his nostrils dilated; his appearance was so 
ominous that Piper shrank away. 

"’Twon’t do you any good to jump on me,” 
spluttered Sleuth. "If your brother wasn’t one 
of that gang, how did it happen that the wound 
of the other chap who was captured was bound 
up in your stable? How did it happen that you 


A CONCESSION FEOM SLEUTH 297 

led him into the woods, in order that he might 
have a chance to get away?’^ 

'T\\ tell you,’' answered Fred, after exhaling 
a long breath that seemed to relieve in a degree 
the tension of his nerves. ‘‘My brother knew 
that man in prison. The man’s name is Riley. 
When Riley sought shelter in our stable my 
brother saw him sitting there on a box and try- 
ing weakly to staunch the flow of blood. Clar- 
ence came out and gave a hand to bind up Riley’s 
wound. About that time some men searching 
for the robbers passed our house, and we learned 
what had happened. I went into the stable and 
came upon Clarence and Riley. Of course it was 
necessary for them to tell me how matters stood. 
In a moment I realized the danger to my brother 
— the terrible danger of having Riley traced 
there and captured on the premises. I knew 
what I was doing when I guided the man into the 
woods, but I did so for my brother’s sake.” 

Sleuth shook his head. “Too bad — too bad 
you had to do that, for it makes you sort of an 
accomplice. However, Sage, even though you 
thought me your bitter enemy and I knew just 


298 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY. 

what you now own that you did, I haven’t 
breathed a *^ord that would bring suspicion of 
this matter upon you. I’ve pledged Hooker to 
keep sDH. He’s your friend, and that fact ought 
to helpvkeep his mouth buttoned up.” 

''As long as you’ve done this much, why won’t 
you do something more? It’s doubtful if the 
people here know anything of my brother’s his- 
tory, and so, if it’s shown that he was not con- 
nected with last night’s affair, he may be re- 
leased. They are still searching for the robbers 
who have not yet been taken. Now if those men 
are captured and one of them proves to be Gen- 
tleman Jim, you’ll see what a blunder you’ve 
made. It can do you no good to expose my 
brother and send him back to Sing Sing. Before 
telling what you know about him, won’t you wait 
to see if one of these other burglars may not be 
Gentleman Jim? If you refuse to do that. I’ll 
know that your behavior toward me was 
prompted by pure animosity, and nothing else.” 

"You’re hanging on to a false hope. Sage,” 
said Sleuth, after a moment or two of considera- 
tion ; "but, seeing it’s you, I’ll agree to keep mum 


A CONCESSION FKOM SLEUTH 


299 


for a while. That won’t hurt me, for your 
brother is safe in custody and can’t get away. 
When the robbers are captured and you’re satis- 
fied that your brother is the only one of the bunch 
who could possibly be Gentleman Jim, I shall tell 
the authorities everything. You can’t ask me to 
do otherwise under those circumstances.” 

^Wou’ve agreed to do all I expected of you — 
and more,” acknowledged Fred in relief. 'T — I 
thank you. Piper.” 

‘"Don’t,” said Sleuth. “Some day you’ll un- 
derstand that there was not an atom of animosity 
or spite in my heart. Now, if you don’t mind. 
I’ll go see those lawyers. And don’t worry, I 
won’t blow until I’ve seen you again.” 

A short time later Fred Sage presented him- 
self at the lockup, where he tried to get a word 
with Clarence, but admission was denied him. 
Ere returning home, more from habit than other- 
wise, he called for mail at the post-office and was 
given a letter addressed to his father. Not until 
he had nearly reached his home did he observe 
that the envelope bore the postmark of Rutledge, 


300 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

New York, and that the names of ''J^rlemon & 
Gates, Attorneys-at-Law,'' were printed upon it. 

Jorlemon and Gates were the lawyers who had 
defended Clarence Sage at his trial. 


CHAPTER XXX. 


THE truth at east. 

Old Andrew Sage uttered a choking cry and 
fell back on his chair, the letter he had been read- 
ing fluttering from his nerveless fingers and 
dropping upon his lap. 

Startled, Mrs. Sage hastened toward her hus- 
band, and Fred sprang forward, crying: 

‘What is it — what is it, father? What’s the 
matter ? Are you ill ?” 

No wonder he asked the question, for Mr. 
Sage’s face was white as chalk and he was gasp- 
ing painfully, as if he found it difficult to breathe. 

“Get some water quick, Fred,” urged Mrs. 
Sage, bending over her husband. 

In a moment Fred had brought a glass of 
water, and Andrew Sage took a swallow or two, 
which seemed to revive him in a measure. 

“The letter,” he whispered hoarsely, peering 
301 


302 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 


from beneath his spectacles — ‘'where’s the let- 
ter?” 

“Here it is, father.” 

“Read it, boy — read it!” almost shouted the 
old man. “Read it aloud, that your mother may 
hear. It doesn’t seem possible ! It’s Heaven sent 
at this moment I” 

Wonderingly Fred picked up the typewritten 
missive and began to read it aloud : 


“Di:ar Mr. Sage:: 

It is possible that you have not yet heard 
of the death of George Barrows, late cashier 
of the First National Bank of Rutledge. Mr. 
Barrows died yesterday, and, when he knew 
beyond doubt that there was no hope for 
him, he sent for me to come to his bedside 
and bring with me a stenographer. I com- 
plied, and in the privacy of the unfortunate 
man’s death chamber I listened to a most 
astounding confession which absolutely 
clears the name of your unfortunate dead 
son from the stigma of the crime for which 
he was convicted and sent to Sing Sing.” 


At this point it was necessary for Fred to give 
his mother assistance and aid her into her own 
special rocking-chair. The moment she was 


THE TRUTH AT LAST 303 

seated, however, she begged him to go on with 
the letter. 

‘‘We have now in our possession (Fred 
read on), a full and complete typewritten 
confession of the crime, in which Barrows 
took the entire guilt upon his own shoul- 
ders. Before the man passed away, we had 
this typewritten document read to him in his 
presence and sworn to before a notary. The 
document is secure in our private safe, and 
it can be made public at any time you choose. 
Although, most unfortunately, this confes- 
sion comes too late to do your misjudged son 
any good, it, nevertheless, must give you no 
small degree of satisfaction and happiness. 

If you desire, Mr. Gates will come to you 
personally with the confession and place it 
in your possession, it seeming unwise to us to 
trust in the slightest degree to the uncer- 
tainty of the mails. 

Permit us, my dear sir, to offer you and 
your good wife our most heartfelt congratu- 
lations. Sincerely yours, 

Hi;nry D. Jorl^mon.’’ 

The excitement and joy produced by the read- 
ing of this astounding letter was unbounded. 
Amid tears and laughter the members of the lit- 
tle family embraced one another again and 
again, and finally, when a little calmness had 


304 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEY 

come upon them, they knelt while Andrew Sage 
offered up a prayer of thanksgiving which came 
from the deepest chamber of his overflowing 
heart. 

The moment the prayer was ended Fred leaped 
to his feet, kissed his mother, turned to his father 
and cried : 

'‘You tell her, father. Tm going back into the 
village. I’m going to take this letter. You tell 
her the wonderful truth.” 

The door slammed behind him, and away he 
went as fast as his legs could carry him. And 
thus it happened that the parents of the young 
man who had been falsely convicted of a crime 
were alone together when old Andrew Sage 
broke the marvelous tidings that Clarence Sage 
lived and was even then in that town. 

Racing into the village in search of Piper, 
Fred was just in time to see Sheriff Pickle and a 
large body of men conducting toward the lockup 
two tattered and battered men, the associates of 
the wounded burglar, who had been captured 
only after a hot pursuit and a desperate fight. 

The morning train had brought into Oakdale a 


THE TEUTH AT LAST 


305 


slim, smooth-faced, quiet man in dark clothes, 
who had seemed greatly interested in the story 
of the attempted bank robbery. This man was 
also on hand when Pickle appeared with the pris- 
oners, and with an air of authority he forced his 
way through the posse until he almost touched 
one of the captives, whom he surveyed with no 
small amount of satisfaction. 

''Hello, Wilson,’’ he said. "You seem to have 
made a bad mess of this job.” 

"Here! here!” cried the deputy sheriff, at- 
tempting to thrust the stranger back. "None of 
that ! Keep away ! What do you mean, men, by 
allowing anyone to approach the prisoners this 
fashion?” 

"Keep your clothes on, my friend,” advised the 
stranger, giving Pickle a look in which disdain 
and amusement seemed mingled. "You’ll get 
your share of the reward for capturing Gentle- 
man Jim, but I’ll take him back to York State.” 

"Who are you?” 

"My name is Burke Sheldon, and I’m a detec- 
tive.” Saying which, he flipped open his coat and 
displayed a badge that caused Mr. Pickle to gasp 


306 THE GKEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 

and touch his hat with a sudden show of great 
respect. 'Y was pretty close on this man’s heels. 
His pals are likewise wanted. See that you hold 
them tight and fast, officer, until I secure the 
needed requisition papers.” 

Now Sleuth Piper had not been far away when 
the new captives arrived, and, crowding close 
in the throng that surrounded the posse, he heard 
the words of Detective Sheldon. 

''Great scissors!” he muttered, aghast. "Is 
that Gentleman Jim?” 

Fred Sage had followed Sleuth into the thick 
of the crowd, and he proceeded to lay a hand on 
the shoulder of the bewildered boy. 

''Thafs Gentleman Jim,” he palpitated exult- 
antly. "Now you see what a blunder you made. 
Luckily, you promised to keep still until these 
men were caught.” 

"It don’t seem possible!” muttered Piper sor- 
rowfully. "I don’t see how I could have missed 
fire in my deduction.” 

"Come with me a minute,” urged Fred. I’ve 
got something to show you. I want to prove to 


THE TRUTH AT LAST 


307 


you that my brother told the truth when he de- 
clared his innocence/’ 

Seemingly dazed and crushed, Sleuth permit- 
ted Fred to drag him from the crowd, and 
when he had read the letter from Jorlemon and 
Gates he was a very sick-looking chap indeed. 
For some moments he stood with his hands sunk 
deep in his pockets, his head drooping and his 
eyes fixed upon the ground. Presently, kicking 
weakly at some pebbles, he began to speak. 

'1 had that five hundred dollars pretty well 
spent,” he said. ‘T’d bought everything with it 
from a new pair of skates to an automobile. And 
now I don’t get a red cent !” 

Then, as Fred was about to say something bit- 
ter and cutting, Piper braced up suddenly. 

^%o6k here, old man,” he exclaimed, with an 
air of sincerity that surely seemed genuine, 'Tor 
all of my confidence that I had that money as 
good as nailed, Pve been feeling pretty rotten. I 
don’t suppose you believe me, but it’s a fact. I’ve 
been mighty sorry about the whole business since 
you talked to me a while ago at the bridge. Now, 
even though I’ve lost the five hundred, I’m feel- 


308 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEEX 

ing better. Say, Fred, you must be ready to blow 
up with joy. Just think of it! Your brother is 
alive, and he's innocent. You have the proof. 
Old fellow, I congratulate you." 

‘‘Thanks," returned Fred, a bit coldly. “Fm 
glad you have the decency to say that much." 

“There's only one hope left for me now," said 
Sleuth. “The bank is out twenty thousand dol- 
lars in securities, and I believe I can put my hand 
on the thief. Anyhow, that will be a feather in 
my cap." 

At eleven o'clock that forenoon, while the offi- 
cials of the bank were in consultation in the di- 
rectors' room, the door-man appeared and stated 
that there was a boy outside who insisted that he 
could tell who had robbed the institution. 

“It's one of the boys who helped catch the 
wounded burglar," he said. “His name is 
Piper." 

“Admit him," directed Urian Eliot. 

Sleuth entered, bearing himself well. His eyes 
roved swiftly over the assembled officials until 
they rested upon Lucius Timmick, who sat hud- 


THE TEUTH AT LAST 


309 


died on a chair at one side of the great oak table. 

*What is this you claim, my boy?’’ asked Mr. 
Eliot. ‘^Do you pretend to say that you know 
who robbed the bank?” 

‘'Yes, sir,” answered Sleuth positively, “I’m 
dead certain I can point out the man. He’s in 
this very room.” 

While the electrified assemblage gasped over 
this statement, there came a sudden disturbance 
outside the door, which was violently flung open 
to admit Captain Quinn, who was threatening 
with his cane the door-man as the latter tried to 
collar him. 

“Keep away, you swab !” roared the old sailor. 
“I tell you I’ve got business in here. Put your 
hands on me and I’ll mop the deck with you !” 

''He — he would come in, gentlemen,” said the 
door-man, seeking to excuse himself for the in- 
terruption. 

“You bet I would!” rasped Quinn. “And if 
I’d had a marlin-spike instead of this cane. I’d 
busted your head when you tried to put your 
dirty hooks on me ! I guess I’ve got something 
that belongs aboard this here craft. I caught 


310 THE GEEAT OAKDALE MYSTEKY 


my monkey, Jocko, hiding it in my bunk. I 
reckon the little rat must have come in here 
through the busted winder and swiped the stuff, 
and I suppose in the excitement nobody saw him. 
Here it is.’’ 

He pulled a thick package from his pocket and 
flung it down upon the table. Timmick, leaping 
from his chair, seized the package and took one 
look at it. Then he uttered a joyful shout. 

''The missing securities!” he cried. ^'Here 
they are I That lets me out.” 

It likewise let Sleuth Piper out. At any rate, 
in the midst of the confusion attendant upon the 
return of the securities Sleuth slipped through 
the open door and made all possible haste to leave 
the bank. 

Some time later Rod Grant found Piper lean- 
ing on the railing of the bridge and gazing 
gloomily down at the icy waters of the river. 
Sleuth did not even look around when Rod 
slapped him on the shoulder, crying: 

"What are you thinking about, you great de- 
tective — jumping into the drink? Going to com- 
mit suicide?” 


THE TRUTH AT LAST 


311 


will admit/’ answered Piper in a doleful 
voice, ‘That such black thoughts have percolated 
through that empty chamber where up to the 
present date I’ve supposed my brains were lo- 
cated.” 

“What’s the matter ?” persisted Grant. “Why, 
you’re one of the heroes of the hour. You and 
Hooker caught one of the burglars ” 

“After he had tumbled into a gully and 
bumped himself as helpless as a dead flounder,” 
returned Sleuth, with unspeakable self-scorn. “A 
great piece of work, that ! Hook may feel chesty 
over it, but not 1. Leave me, Rodney — leave me 
to my sorrow. Let me suffer alone and in si- 
lence.” 

Thus the Great Oakdale Mystery was cleared 
up to the satisfaction of all, for in time even 
Sleuth Piper professed to be rejoiced, and his 
profession was accepted as genuine by Fred 
Sage, whose own great happiness would not per- 
mit him to hold hard feelings toward anyone. 

Clarence Sage, cleared of any suspicion of 
complicity in the attempted robbery of the Oak- 


312 THE GREAT OAKDALE MYSTERY 

dale bank, soon went to Rutledge, where Jor- 
lemon and Gates took up his case, and, with the 
aid of the dead cashier’s confession, quickly ob- 
tained for Clarence the governor's pardon. 



MAY 31 1912 




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